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lovemesomeeddiemunson · 10 months

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Prom Date

Summary: Prom is coming and you want nothing more than to go. A certain metalhead goes above and beyond chivalry.

F! Reader Insert, 6111 Words

Warnings: SMUT! Minors DNI. Y/N is over 18. Eddie is scarred from the Upside Down. I took some liberties and decided Vecna was defeated in this. Making out, smoking, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, cursing, food mentions, protected sex.

Authors Note: This has been in the works for ages, and I am unleashing it lol. I never went to prom sooooo this is another self indulgent one lol. Also, I am always looking for inspo, so I will absolutely take requests for one-shots, blurbs, and head canons. If you don’t have an idea and just wanna chat, that’s cool too! I promise I won't bite.

The complaint you had been making gets caught in your throat, embarrassment heating your cheeks as the conversation you were having with Steve is halted by the bell above the door to Family Video.

It’s the first time it’s gone off since you’d settled in here after school to hang out with your friends. The place was dead enough that the interruption alone would have garnered your glance, but instead your full attention is quickly commanded by the metalhead entering beneath the bell, already grinning as he takes you in at the counter. “Hey Y/N…Steve…Robin.” He nods at each of you as the lot of you greet him back.

Your simple, “Hi Eddie.” is much more reserved than you feel as you ignore the butterflies he causes by approaching, a stack of video tapes tucked under one of the scarred arms that peeks unapologetically from his Black Sabbath t-shirt.

“What are we talking about?” He asks with a small chuckle, to which Robin immediately throws you under the bus.

“Prom.” She supplies in a pained tone, adding, “Y/N doesn’t have a date.”

“Robin!” You complain sharply as Steve gives her a stern look. Her eyes widen, having missed the cue that maybe you wouldn’t want Eddie to know that - to open yourself up for his scrutiny on top of your already miserable desires.

Eddie doesn’t mock you though. He takes one look at you, at the apparent mortification on your face that’s now hidden by your hands, and you can only assume he takes pity on you.

In response to Robin’s words, just loud enough for you to hear, he insists “Go with me.”

As the words register, you drop your hands, your eyes widening before you can help it.

You let out a small, disbelieving sound at Eddie, cringing at the way it comes out like a mutilated laugh. “Doesn’t prom go against your entire belief system?” You mutter, Eddie smiling like you’ve just paid him a compliment.

“Oh absolutely it does...But who am I to turn a blind eye to a damsel in distress?” He gives a small chuckle, before catching the downtrodden look on your face and quickly scrambling.

“That’s not to say that uh, I wouldn’t enjoy myself. I think…I mean, if it’s with you, I think it could be fun.” There’s a slight smile playing around the edge of his lips.

It would be fun. It would be…everything. And you want him to mean it so desperately that it takes you a moment to notice the way that your delay affects Eddie. The way he fidgets with his hands…Shifts from foot to foot…Could he actually be nervous?

You melt.

“I…I’d really like to go.” You confess, your voice small in the wake of the admittance you hadn’t allowed yourself thus far. Putting yourself out there, only to have Eddie’s answering smile take the breath from your lungs.

“It’s a date then.” He sets his pile of videos on the counter, glancing at your mutual friends. “Take care of this for me, will you Harrington? I gotta go find a tux.”

Steve pulls the tapes towards himself as Eddie starts to walk backwards toward the door, eyes never leaving you even for a moment. “I’ll see you later?” He asks hopefully.

You nod far too readily only for him to grin again and wave, rings glinting in the fluorescent lighting, before he heads out.

As the door closes behind him, Robin gives you a wide eyed look, Steve scanning the returns as he lets out a very casual. “Munson, huh? Now that I wasn’t expecting.”

“Me neither.” You reply, already fretting about making sure that things go perfectly as you pinch yourself that Eddie Munson has really just asked you to prom.

Robin starts talking a mile a minute, having garnered acceptance of the situation much more quickly than your still bewildered state, and Steve lovingly reminds you both to breathe.

It feels far removed from you in that moment and beyond it, as the days leading up to prom seem to accelerate in your anxious state.

Until it’s the night of and finally you head to Steve’s, where his bathroom counter has been taken over by all the beauty products Robin, Robin’s mother, (and Steve,) collectively owned.

While there you’re given the full glamor treatment - makeup, hair, the works.

It’s a great time. Not only do you enjoy this bit of pampering but as they help you get ready, Steve and Robin reminisce about their own memories of prom to your utter delight.

Steve’s is a classic tale - 85’ prom king, underage drinking, and an after party where he and his date went all the way.

“Gag.” Robin interjected, launching into her own unconventional tale. A prom that involved crashing in 84’ after a spiteful makeover and some light property damage.

You laugh along with both your friends and think to yourself that both experiences, while wonderful, were nothing compared to what stood before you - an evening with Eddie.

It was tying you up in knots, the anticipation. The nerves that took what was upcoming and loaded it on top of every interaction you two had shared previously. A perfect storm of wondering if things between you two were moving in the direction you hoped for…If this was more than just chivalry to him.

You wanted it to be. Cataloging all of the previously stolen glances between you two…the inside jokes…

“Would you stop pacing,” Steve insisted, grabbing you by the shoulders. “It’s gonna be fine! Trust me.”

“Trust you.” You repeated, about to go off on an anxiety-induced spiral of self deprecation before Robin interjected and halted you in your tracks. She said some words - pretty and French. Something about maybe how you looked? Or how Eddie was going to feel when he looked at you? You weren’t sure.

In any case, it helped. You took a deep breath and put a relaxed smile on your face. Robin took the opportunity to snap a Polaroid of the three of you.

This led to a dozen more photos, Steve and Robin posing with you like the parents sending you off. Robin wiped fake tears from her eyes and Steve started in on a fake lecture about boys and how they were no good, and back in his day...

You were still laughing at that when a knock on the door caused you to freeze, nerves supplanting themselves right back in the pit of your stomach as Steve went to let Eddie in, quickly sidestepping so the pair of you could take each other in.

As your gaze landed on Eddie, you couldn’t help but find him impossibly handsome - clean shaven, shiny brown curls falling past his shoulders where he’d managed to find a relatively nice suit to wear.

You were surprised to see a boutonniere in the same color as your dress - your favorite color - beside his lapel. In his still ringed hands he held a plastic container with a matching corsage.

You couldn’t help but to go slack-jawed in awe at the sight, touched beyond measure.

Steve clears his throat behind the pair of you. You hadn’t noticed how long you’d been ogling Eddie - or that he’d been struck just as speechless at the sight of you in your prom dress.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” He pipes up, the both of you meeting halfway.

“Thank you, Eddie. You look really handsome.” You swear, fondness in your voice.

He beams at you, gingerly holding up the corsage, “Can I?” He asks.

You offer your wrist, Robin and Steve snapping away with the camera. You stick your tongue out at them after giving them a generous moment to get the shot.

They wave you off, forcing the two of you into all kinds of poses that you complain about but know you’ll cherish - physical remnants of the way Eddie holds you tight and smiles like he’s proud to have you.

These and a few group shots, the last of which has Eddie making a classic rockstar pose and Steve faux-flexing, and you two are ushered off the lawn and on your way.

“Not too late now!” Steve teases - Robin's arm is around his waist as she waves you off.

You roll your eyes at both of them, addressing him when you say, “I’ll be sure to do that, mom.” And Eddie laughs as they flip you the bird and disappear into the house to hang out.

“You ready?” Eddie asks sweetly, to which you nod, already heading for his van.

When he sees which way you’re going he gently catches you by the arm, shaking his head. “Your chariot for the evening is actually this way my lady.”

Your confused expression turns to one of surprise as Eddie produces a set of keys from his pocket, jingling them in the general direction of Steve’s BMW.

“Steve said I could borrow her, with some stipulations.” Eddie explained, a bit of a pink tint to the tips of his ears at whatever they were, as he hurried over and opened your door for you before you could ask.

Once you and your dress are situated he shuts you in gently, heading around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“How’d you pull that off?” You ask nonchalantly instead, smoothing your dress down your legs.

Eddie clears his throat, eyes on your ankle and sounding a touch embarrassed as he explains. “I told him that I didn’t want you to show up to your prom in the old grease bucket, smelling like weed…He took pity on me I think.”

He waves it off, but you frown. Not liking the answer, you call his name gently, reassuring him. “I could have rolled up in half a rotting pumpkin and I would still be happy because I’m there with you.”

Feeling bold, you reach out and squeeze his hand reassuringly. You’re planning to let go but Eddie suddenly squeezes back, lacing your fingers together.

“Is-is this okay?” He nods down at the hand he holds, a timid smile on his face. You smile wide in return, promising him, “It’s perfect.”

Not much more needs to be said. He holds your hand the whole ride to the school, a guitar you recognize playing low in the background. Not Steve’s usual station for sure, and you don’t mind at all.

When the two of you arrive, the parking lot is already full - well, as full as it can be with half the town having moved away overnight…Upperclassmen are all around, running free in their fancy attire, having a blast. Cutting lose in a much needed way after the last year of hell.

Paying them no mind, Eddie takes your hand and leads you through the halls of the school, where you flash your tickets at the entry before heading inside the gym.

You smile as you take in the packed space, full of colorful balloons and gossamer streamers hanging, winding, and climbing every available surface.

A cluster of colorfully dressed people jumps, twirls, and writhes in the middle of the floor, creating a cluster of hairspray smell that’s a bit overwhelming.

Eddie takes one look at you under the twinkle lights, and feels his heart skip a beat.

“Hard to believe this is the same room where I’ve spent so much time faking injuries.” You tell him when you meet his gaze, your admittance making him laugh.

“I wish I would have known, I’m notorious for my nosebleeds. I could have kept you supplied with plenty of fake blood.” He taps the side of said nose in emphasis, and you can’t help but think about how well a kiss would fit right there. “Hm” You muse, slight smile on your lips. “I usually go with ‘sprained ankle.’ Guaranteed reading time for the whole period. Doubt a few drops of blood can get you the same result.” “A few drops? I’ll have you know that I have a very serious vitamin K deficiency.” He answers, smirk on his lips. “A nosebleed from me is a guaranteed bloodbath. Coach can’t get me out of here fast enough.”

You bark out a laugh. “You’re a little bit evil, Munson.”

“Maybe.” He grins huge, hand to his heart. “I promise you though, no excuses tonight.” Eddie shakes his hair out. “I am but your humble servant, here to dance to your heart’s desires.”

You raise an eyebrow, but he isn’t joking - he drags you to the makeshift dance floor, where scattered couples give you a wide berth, Eddie never showing whether he minds or not. He moves along to the music blaring throughout the gym, encouraging you to join him. You fold way too fast, inspired to abandon your nerves with the way he’s smiling and looking at you like there’s no one else in the room.

You keep your gaze on him, loving how when he dances it’s in complete confidence - treating each song like a concert he’s putting on for the two of you. It’s silly and uncoordinated and so much fun.

After a sporadic turn around the dance floor to the pop that Eddie loathes, for what feels like ages, the pair of you suddenly grow nervous at the slow song that cuts through - a soulful angelic voice rife with passion, urging lover’s together.

You're surrounded by peers who’ve already fallen into their dates' arms when Eddie holds a hand out.

Head up slightly, you place your hand in his and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you in close, swaying the pair of you from side to side.

The song goes on - romantic and full of promise, and changes the atmosphere entirely. When it ends, Eddie doesn’t seem like he can go back to jumping and bopping around to the hits of today.

Instead he unwraps his arms from around your waist without a word, linking his arm with yours and leading you out the double doors of the cafeteria.

By this point in the night the prom is in full swing, so the concession tables lined up outside just beyond the doors in the senior hallway are nearly abandoned.

There’s one bleary eyed chaperone posted out front to guard the punch, halfheartedly asking if you’re having fun as Eddie pours you a generous cup full.

You nod at her in reply and down the drink, trying not to wince at the taste and give yourself away. Knowing that said chaperone had definitely fallen asleep at the wheel.

The second your back is turned though, you’re pulling a face, and Eddie chuckles at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering there a touch too long. It feels more than friendly.

“I’m really glad you asked me to come.” You blurt before you can help it, immediately hiding behind the pretense of taking another sip of your drink.

Eddie’s eyes grow soft at your words. “I’m really glad you said yes.” He admits.

It takes you by surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He moves in a touch closer, looking like he wants to say something.

He clams up though when there’s an apparent shift change at the punch table. A new teacher is taking the place of the old, this one looking at Eddie entirely disapprovingly. Likely traumatized from having him in class at some point.

And Eddie, for all his confidence, seems to shrink. Looks wholly defeated.

You frown, urging him down the hall and away from disapproving eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, plastering a smile on his face that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Got the best girl in Hawkins all to myself, what could be wrong?”

The compliment almost distracts you. “Eddie,” you complain softly, with a small laugh.

He loves the sound of your laugh. Loves seeing you get all flustered. “Alright alright, so to be fair I don’t ‘got’ you - but I did bring you to the prom. Now you’ll never forget me.” He grins.

You want to tell him that he can have you - take you, you’ll be his, but you're not brave enough to make the offer, and so you tease him about the latter part of his statement, “Forget you?” You ask incredulously. “We’ve fought interdimensional monster’s together, Munson. I’m not likely to forget that any time soon.”

“Ah you say that now. But in fifty years? I would have just been that guy with the tattoos who complained the whole time…Now as your senior prom date...I mean, hell, even Wayne remembers his prom date, and the old man likely couldn’t tell you what I made for dinner last night.” He grimaces more than he laughs.

You frown slightly, although you try hard to keep your words light. “You make it sound like you’re going somewhere.”

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart...That’s kind of that point. Girls like you go off, change the world…And guys like me get left behind, wondering what might have been.”

“Eddie.” You frown, not sure where to begin with that. “What are you saying?”

“Just that…I hope you’ll remember me.” He tells you sadly.

“Eddie,” You blurt, a touch too loudly. The other occupant of the hall narrows her eyes, looking like she’s debating intervening. You bite your lip and lower your voice. “Why is it what could have been? Why does…nothing come of it?”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset.” Eddie murmurs quietly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh no, you absolutely should have…because if you’re telling me that you like me…” You shake your head in disbelief. “Eddie, I will never let you go.”

“Y/N…” he protests softly, and he sounds much older than twenty years old. You shake your head, taking his hands in yours, squeezing reassuringly.

“Eddie, I’m not going anywhere, okay? Dr. Brenner asked me to work with him after graduation. Stay in Hawkins where we can try to undo some of the nasty ugly that Vecna unleashed…That being said, wherever I am, stay or go, you do not get to decide that you’re not good enough for me. Not after everything.”

And then, with the backing that Eddie likes you - likes you and for all his doubts wants to be remembered by you, you take a leap.

You lean in, pressing your lips to his firmly, lingering there even when he’s kissed you back, pulled away so now he’s stammering, lips still brushing yours.

“So I-you’re-” Eddie stutters. You nudge his cute nose with your own, expression soft, nerves worked out by the man’s sincerity.

“I like you, Eddie.” You tell him, eyes hopeful. “Is it enough?”

“More than enough.” He breathed. He leaned back in for another kiss, and then another. Only stopping when the nosey chaperone behind the two of you cleared her throat loudly.

He rests his forehead against yours. There’s several comfortable beats of silence as he takes in what’s happened. Then he offers, nervously and quietly, “…you wanna go dance some more?”

You nod eagerly.

The night wears on with more dancing, laughter, and stolen kisses.

When hours have passed and the band is wrapping up, you still don’t want to let Eddie go, holding him tight even as the overhead lights come on in the gym, clean up starting in the echoing silence.

Eddie hums softly, face downtrodden. “I guess…I guess I better get you home.”

“Sure or…” You clear your throat, looking at Eddie from beneath your lashes. “I mean, it’s kind of been implied that I’m spending the night at Robin’s…so uh, no one’s waiting up for me or anything…”

“Oh?” Eddie perks up. “Well uh, Steve is very much back there waiting up for his lady, so…maybe we can get rid of her and spend some more time together?”

You agree readily, letting out a small laugh. “I’d love that…Now let’s hurry, I absolutely cannot be in these shoes any longer.”

Eddie quickly straightens up, holding out an arm. “Say no more.”

He leads you out of the gym, giving a small jerk where you two maintain contact before you can step into the darkened near-empty parking lot.

“What is it?” You ask him, only for him to slip his arm out of your hold, both hands landing on your shoulders before he sinks down to one knee in front of you.

“Give me,” He insists, slapping his upper thigh.

Confused, you raise a foot slowly, only to squeak as he makes quick work of robbing you of the shoe you present him, then the other, the strappy heels held tightly in his hand as he scrambles to his feet.

“Eddie!” You gasp, bare feet on the pavement.

He looks absolutely diabolical as he coos at you, “Don’t worry baby, I don’t expect you to walk.”

Expected instead to sweep you off your feet, making you let out a loud startled sound as he hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder.

“Eddie!” You squeal in protest, face hot as you protest that you're way too heavy for this, only for Eddie to laugh at you and ignore what you think are perfectly valid concerns.

Eddie’s having none of it, strong and steady as he deposits you in Steve’s car, your offending shoes pressed into your hands.

He jogs giddily around the front of the BMW, sliding into the front seat and firing her up.

“You’re a menace.” You whine, attempting to fix what the night of dancing and being carried around has done to your hair.

Eddie laughs at you, reaching out a hand tentatively. You take it firmly, bringing it up to your lips to press a kiss to it. Eddie’s whole demeanor softens, and you do it again. And again.

Eddie only stops you once you get to Steve’s a few minutes later, where he quickly rushes inside, not wanting your mutual friends to come out and intrude on your evening.

A few minutes later and you’re in the front seat of his van, the engine rumbling beneath you as he mentions that he could go for a smoke, and you readily agree.

Rather than take you back to his and Wayne’s place though - newly assigned by the government after Vecna’s assault - to your surprise he drives the two of you out to Lover’s Lake.

“I still like to come out here sometimes. It’s mostly peaceful now that the whole town is…well, a ghost town.” He explains, nervous as he pulls out some pre-rolled blunts in a little baggie and a box of camels from his dashboard, holding them both up to you as options.

You choose the blunts, and he situates the rejects before glancing behind him nervously. “We uh, we can get in the back and open the doors up if you want? There’s more room.”

Trying and failing to hide your smile, you nod and climb back, Eddie quickly following and popping open the doors, the night air wafting in over the slightly rippling water as he lights up.

“Oh wow.” You tilt your head back and take in the stars and moon hanging overhead. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says absentmindedly, taking a long drag. Breathing out a plume of smoke, eyes only for you. “Beautiful.”

You meet his gaze, and he blushes, coughing slightly. Your hand finds his unoccupied one, and you squeeze.

The two of you are out there for a while, sharing the blunt back and forth until relaxation coats your bones, a lazy smile taking over your lips.

“I’m really glad you asked me to prom.” You grin, repeating your words from earlier.

Eddie merely chuckles, remembering. “I’m really glad you said yes…and that I’m going to see more of you,” he says it like a question, and you’re already nodding, taking your hit.

“I told you, there’s no getting rid of me now.” You laugh. Eddie tilts his head to the side at the sound, long curls falling over his shoulder.

He’s gorgeous like this - in the low light of the moon, with his tie, or rather, his corporate noose of oppression, long since discarded. (He’d kicked it playfully, the big dork.)

All that and a hint of skin showing beyond the top few undone buttons of his shirt…he was lovelier than anything in this whole town.

“You promise?” Eddie asks playfully, two fingers raising the blunt and inhaling a touch sharply - he blinks his eyes at you coyly, but you know there’s real insecurity behind the question.

You brush his hand to the side and kiss him in answer. Slow and sweet, but when Eddie scrambles to abandon the blunt altogether, eager to get both his hands on you, all bets are off.

Bunching up your suddenly constricting prom dress in your hands, you struggle to get closer to Eddie, straddling him as you slip your tongue in his mouth.

Minutes go by like this, the atmosphere growing hot and heavy, until your soft sucking on his earlobe makes him jerk harshly up into you.

“Fuck,” he gasps, trying to pull away, eyes darting down to where your dress is bunched up around your thighs. “Sorry!”

You frown, trying to keep your seat. “Don’t be sorry! …I uh, I was hoping…maybe we could…if you wanted to…”

He groans before shaking out his hair, trying to clear his mind. “Course’ I do, just…we’re in the van.” He emphasized. “S’not how I wanted to do things…”

You plant another kiss on his lips. Tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. “…Please?”

He folds way too fast.

“Fuck, okay. Can’t say no to those eyes.” He shakes his head slightly. Wants to ingrain the smile that takes over your face in his mind forever.

Especially when you reach out for him again, kissing him passionately. “…Gonna take such good care of you.” He practically growls, and you let out a shudder.

“Promise?” You bat your eyes at him, repeating the words that had started this whole thing.

“Shit, I’d do anything for you. You know that don’t you?” He asks, cradling your face in his hands with the utmost care. A nod from you and he smiles, eyes darting over to the van’s front.

“Gimme a sec,” he instructs, leaving you momentarily to fish around under his seat, producing a blanket that he tosses down, spreading it out.

“There we are.” He offers a sheepish grin as you ease yourself into the padding he’s laid out for you, guiding Eddie to situate himself atop you as you lock lips once again.

While you kiss, his growing harness pressing eagerly against you, you work his suit jacket off his shoulders, undoing a few more buttons so he can shuck his shirt off after it.

You're eager to feel any skin you can, sighing contentedly at having him beneath your fingers.

Eddie starts to tense up a bit though, the more that’s revealed, apologies already on his lips.

“Hey, none of that.” You shake your head. “I want you to an embarrassing degree. A few battle scars aren’t going to scare me off.”

“It’s more than a few.” He cleared his throat, offering a tiny smile. “But…okay…”

When you take in the sight of him - bare, scarred, fucking perfect, it’s not at all an exaggeration. And yet you’ve never seen something so beautiful.

The pattern interrupting his porcelain skin exists of of blush pinks and vibrant reds. Reaching across him in some places, splitting in others, every bit of it is a testament to his resilience and heroism.

You hope fate will grant you enough time to memorize them all someday as you tell him, “Very metal.”

“Yeah?” He quirks up a brow, looking a bit more relaxed.

“Hell yeah.” You reply teasingly, and Eddie chuckles before his kiss practically consumes you.

Lips against yours, firm and eager, his hands roam your back that’s currently covered by silky fabric.

He glances down at where it covers you. “It really is a pretty dress…” he tells you, toying with the zipper. “Mind if I take it off?”

“Please.” You gasp.

“Oh.” He lets out a breath through his nose. “Good girl.”

Your head falls back slightly, eyes widening a fraction as he slips the zipper down and moves the fabric down over your arms, past your waist, your legs and ankles, discarding it off to the side.

Laid out before him in nothing but your strapless bra and lacey panties, he groans a little.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps. “Fuck...you look so damn sexy. I can’t wait to do this again somewhere I can see you properly…”

You giggle beneath him, and he swallows the sound with his kiss. Pulling back slightly and murmuring, asking if he can see more of you.

When you give him permission his lips graze your shoulder, planting little kisses there while his hands work behind you with the clasps of your bra.

When it comes loose, he pulls back and drinks you in, diving in readily.

You gasp when he first takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly, eagerly.

Noises of ecstacy edge him on as he sucks, nibbles, teases, his hands and tongue and teeth lavishing your breasts with attention until you're shaking, hands buried in his hair.

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you whine.

Eddie grins widely down at you, hand tracing a path up your leg, “…want to taste you.” He breathes.

A nod and he’s between your legs, kneeling on marks left by gnashing teeth, grinning devilishly before he’s dragging his tongue up the center of you that’s still clothed for the moment.

You cry out in surprise and pleasure, back arching off the blanket and he grins, wanting your underwear out of the way now that he’s had some fun with you.

He tugs them down your legs, murmuring all the while how gorgeous you are, his eyes drinking you in once you're finally, completely, naked beneath him.

Then his words of praise get muffled by your inner thighs as he’s kissing and nipping at them, your legs thrown over his shoulders.

Looking up at you through his hair, he slowly dips his tongue into your slit and flicks up, holding your hips down from jolting against him.

His tongue dives in again and again, stroking you to the edge and lapping up everything you give him, as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.

He moans against you, tilting your hips up further, locking his grip and moving his tongue even quicker.

Eddie can’t help but admire the scene in front of him as he eats you out, tits bouncing as you thrust against his mouth and the fingers he supplies, begging him for more.

You look so good like this, all fucked-out, downright sobbing as Eddie devoured you. When you finally shatter under the sheer force of your orgasm, he nurses it for all its worth.

Eddie pulls back and swipes his tongue across his bottom lip as you catch your breath, admiring you as you come down.

“And so pretty when you cum…” he praises you.

In the aftermath you reach for him blindly, and he crawls atop you on all fours, your mouths crashing together messily.

“Eddie,” you’re begging him. “Eddie, please…” pushing his pants and boxers down and off his hips with your feet, eager and uncoordinated, but he gets the message.

Your eyes take in every inch of him, greedily running over every bit of skin as he kicks the offending fabric away before thinking better of it and turning his pants inside out to try and find his wallet and the condom within it.

There’s relief in his eyes when it turns up, shaking hands slowing him down until he finally just tears into the package with his teeth, unable to take it anymore.

The sight practically causes your lower stomach to spasm.

Then he’s pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it down his length, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Fuck,” He sighs lightly, spreading your legs and lining himself up with you as you smile so hard your nose scrunches up. And holy hell if you aren’t the most perfect thing he’s ever seen.

Especially when he slips inside you finally, your walls tightening against the intrusion and gripping him so seamlessly.

Eddie groans, releasing his hold on himself so he can press your legs down a little further as he inches in.

He cries out an array of explicatives as he watches himself disappear inside you, hearing you moan at the feeling of finally being full.

His hips cant forward, slowly easing in and out until you cry out his name and praises.

Eddie slams into you, driving in over and over, eyes closed tight against the pleasure of it all.

You’re making it so much better as you cry out beneath him, hands roving his body.

“Want you to fall apart on my cock, sweetheart.” He gasps, thumb working rhythmically against your clit, loving the little screams you let out when he plays with it.

With the way he has you on edge, swiping against that little button while he pounds into you hard and deep, just how you’re begging for it, it doesn’t take long at all.

You’re helpless as your walls bear down on him, his movements faltering under the intensity of your second orgasm as it washes over you.

Then he picks his pace right back up, fucking into you where you’re still fluttering around him.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He accentuates each word with a harsh thrust. “Fucking knew you would be.” There’s sweat beading up on his forehead, his eyes still fixated on the spot where your bodies met. He sounds absolutely wrecked. Desperate.

“Had a damn near out of body experience when you were swinging that oar around. Fell so damn hard and just…fuck…Fucking knew, knew right then that if I was ever lucky enough to get you underneath me it was gonna be fucking transcendent.”

He drives into you a little harder at that point, and you moan loudly, nails digging into his back.

Eddie hisses slightly, smiling, not a trace of cockiness in his tone as he begs you for reassurance. “Was I wrong, baby?” He asks.

You give a desperate shake of your head. Choking out. “Right. So right, so good. Fuck! Eddie!”

He groans. “Shit, I’m not gonna last. You’re taking me so well.”

Eddie pounds against you harder, thrusts sloppy right up until he cums, spilling into the condom with his head thrown back, pure ecstasy on his face.

With his finish he collapses on top of you, exhausted, sweaty, and so, so satisfied.

You reach up from beneath him, running hands through his long hair, not complaining about his weight at all. Even whining when he quickly realizes and moves to roll off of you.

Eddie chuckles, removing the used condom and discarding it in an empty plastic bag under his passenger seat.

Once that’s back where he found it he settles into the pulling you into his arms, both to appease you, and because he needed it.

He kisses the top of your head as he does so, a laugh shaking his body slightly as he pulls you tighter into him. “Holy fuck.”

You giggle, agreeing wholeheartedly. He leans his forehead against yours. “I can’t believe I got you.” Tasting the way it makes you smile as you murmur the same words back to him.

After more kisses than you can keep track of, Eddie breaks apart from you to ask, “Hey, are you hungry?”

And when you admit you are, the two of you redress, and he takes you to a 24 hour diner a little outside of Hawkins where the two of you gorge yourselves on breakfast food.

You look a bit more like the girl he first fell for, make up long since discarded like it was in the days following him hiding in the boathouse. A light sheen of sweat lingers from what the two of you did in the back of his van, your prom dress is rumpled, and still the smile you offer him - it makes him feel like everything is gonna be alright.

He can’t take his eyes off you. He tells you as much, and with his adoration comes promises made between the two of you over hash browns and maple syrup.

Promises of sticking around, of being enough, and of never forgetting - not because things were unforgettable by proximity - but because how could you, when this was the first of so much to be shared, to be experienced…together.

#eddie munson #eddie smut #eddie munson prom #eddie munson prom fic #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie st #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #Eddie munson fic

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Text

“Reunion” Sanji x Black Fem Reader (NSFW/FLUFF) Sanji POV

Word Count: 2.8k (Thank u Kazu for telling me how to figure this out lolol)

Bad Summary: After 2 years of being away, you both needed to show each other how much you missed being in the presence of your love for one another.

CW: Soft Dom! Sanji, Needy!Sanji, Eye Contact, Deep Throating, Soft Sex, Kissing, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Tongue Sucking, Cuming untouched, L Bombs, Talks of Pregnancy/Marriage, not proof read.

I enjoyed writing in Sanji’s POV so I’ll be switching from him to 3rd in this. Also I may reference a little bit from “Lady K and the Sick Man”💀

Sanji POV-

2 long years. After 2 long years I got to see her again. I almost didn’t recognize her. I couldn’t move when I seen her on the Thousand Sunny yet I wanted nothing more than to run and hold her, kiss her, smell her I didn’t care I needed to be in her presence again.

All I did was think about her. I thought about her laugh, her jokes, her beautiful eyes that never seemed to stop having that glint when she smiled, her scent I couldn’t get enough of, the way how she fought beside me numerous of times, her soft hands caressing my face after I made love to her, how she always held me in her beautiful breast almost all night playing in my hair, her hot breath hitting my neck frantically as she never let go of me as she was cumming, crying my name over and over again, how her dull nails dug into my back always managing to leave scars,—fuck.

The long nights I had thinking about her were finally over. I missed her touch, I got strong for myself, my crew, and her of course. I wanted to make sure this new go round I keep her as safe as possible. I can’t lose her again. I won’t lose her again.

It’s been so long.

I was told she was in her room, —-dammit I just missed her. I wasn’t sure why but butterflies hit the bottom of my stomach as I went to look for her. I only saw a glimpse of her but I couldn’t believe how much she’s grown, SHE LOOKED SO HOT!

HER TITS WERE LIKE BEAUTIFUL SWEET CARAMEL MARSHMALLOWS

Is that a thing?

HER BUTT WAS A PERFECT 10–SO SOFT AND JIGGLY LIKE A CHEESECAKE

HER BEAUTIFUL SKIN THAT WAS KISSED PERSONALLY BY THE SUN REMINDING ME OF A WARM SUNET IN WHICH IF I STARED TOO LONG I COULD POSSIBLY BE BLINDED BY IT.

I MISSED THIS WOMAN SO MUCH!

Wait no.

I have to relax.

But I cant—

After everybody had set sail after saying their hellos again Sanji went to go look for you. His mind was going a mile a minute thinking about you once more, he actually felt a cold sweat come along causing him to undo his tie a bit.

There she is.

Her door.

My hands were shaking frantically. I knocked on the door and heard a faint “yes?”. I could recognize that beautiful voice anywhere.

“It’s uh…it’s me, Sanji.” I didn’t get a response for a few seconds, I heard her feet approach closer and closer to the door until…

“Hey.”

“Y/n…”

Her smile was just as breath taking as when I last seen it, she always managed to do it with her eyes too, I could have sworn time froze when she opened the door.

I missed her, so much.

She quickly wrapped her arms around my neck, fuck she smelled even better than I remembered too. Her body was so soft, her touch was so delicate I just couldn’t get enough.

“Long time no see, Ji.”

I chuckled with her at the nickname she gave me that she seemed to never let go of. It was more than fine though, because it was her saying it.

“You busy? Can we talk?” She pulled away searching my face while cupping my cheeks. I agreed to speak with her of course, I knew the privacy wouldn’t last too long because I had to start the feast soon.

We sat on the edge of her bed, and okay to be honest I couldn’t stop looking at her ass. She looked too damn good. I really tried my hardest not to pass out but from seeing Robin and Nami and more importantly Y/N I don’t think my heart can take all this!

We talked of course, losing track of time once again. I was laid on my back on her bed as she sat up beside me on her elbow playing with my tie. It was almost like we never left I couldn’t stop staring at her stunning gaze.

“When we Land to the new island I wanna show you my new movesssss. I. Y/N. Have gotten quieter stronger.”

“You have! You can show me whatever you like! You look amazing too, my love!”

She laughed hovering over my face, her lips just grazing mine, I started to feel hot again and she smirked noticing and took my cigarette out of my mouth to kiss me finally. She pulled back slowly giggling at me because I didn’t want it to end. AND I DID NOT HER LIPS TASTED SO SWEET AND WAS SO SOFT LIKE A CLOUD—

“I’m surprised you haven’t climbed on top of me already. Did you also learn self control, Ji?” Y/n teased, handing me back my cigarette as I sucked my bottom lip still looking at hers.

“Maybe…”

“Well…” She huffed and got on top of me, oh fuck I missed being under her. “I didn’t practice that much of self control to be honest…and if you want me to be blunt…IIIIIIII kinda been a bit antsy since I seen you arrive…so I ran to my room to calm down a bit.”

“Oh?—don’t Tell me My darling got…flustered?! Because of me?!”

“Shut up.” She chuckled holding her face with one hand, “Maybe…you’re all grown up now…’n stuff and…you look really good…or whatever.”

She was so cute like this. She always had a cute pout. I smile and rub my hands up her waist and thighs. She was wearing this pretty dress that exposed the sides of her thick thighs. Y/N was always so sensitive when I did that and it showed seeing how she jumped when I did it.

As well as her breast.

“I missed you a lot , Y/N… you know many times I—-“

“I know…I did too…I couldn’t help myself I thought about you almost every. Single. Night. Unfortunately—-” Her hands roamed my chest as she started to lower herself back over my face, “….my fingers can never compare to your pretty lips…or something else, but…I don’t wanna get too vulgar.”

I felt my cheeks blush, the thought of her touching herself, thinking of me I—-

Ok i got hard.

You felt the bulge of Sanji’s pants grow below you, pressing so sweet against your clothed cunt and you bit your lip in satisfaction. As much as you wanted to wait until later tonight when everybody was asleep, Sanji just was too predictable and looked way too good.

“Sanji….why don’t you show me how much you missed me…”

“Y/n…”

Her minty breath overcrowded mine somehow, I honestly been aching to fuck her since she opened the door, but I wanted our “makeup” sex to be special. Not just a quickie. She must have seen the conflict in my eyes and kissed me again. It was almost as if her lips washed away any form of concern I had and so I pulled her close to my chest squeezing the fatty mounds of her ass with both hands. My grip was firm making her to gasp and I used the opportunity to swirl my tongue in her mouth.

I felt some spit fall in between our kissing, but I didn’t care how sloppy it was it just made me more turned on to see her again. I couldn’t wait, I muttered a curse under my breath and sat up. Our lips never separated, I was hungry. She was hungrier and we both knew what could satisfy us.

“Get up and Take this off.” Y/N heavily breathed out tugging my pants. I don’t know why or what it was but she loved watching me unbuckle my slacks in front of her. Her eyes looked so full of lust and desire I couldn’t say no. I did. As told and her mouth was agape seeing me pull out my cock from my boxers the entire time—-she was so sexy like this.

She pushed me back a little and got on her knees. We always bickered about who will go down on who first, but right now I didn’t really give a damn she looked so needy on her knees stripping off all her clothing but her panties.

Her pretty doe eyes look up at me as she licks my balls to my cock, her fucking tongue was a weapon of itself I have no idea how the hell she learned these moves considering I was the one to take her virginity. Her eyes rolled back into her head moaning on my cock as it slid further down her wet mouth. I gripped her hair trying not to pull it, but she was making me damn near dizzy and —-

“Fuck! Y/n! Ah!” I moaned out, I came way too fast and she didn’t let up sucking me through my orgasm. I knew we would get so many weird looks when we came out to the crew but I couldn’t care less I had a beautiful woman begging with her lips to suck my dick after being around nothing but men for 2 years I DESERVE THIS.

The pain of overstimulation had my mind already numb, I pushed her closer to my groin, I felt the back of her throat pulsating on the tip and a few inches of shaft. Her nails clawed at my thighs as she dragged out a hum from her throat vibrating on my cock making me roll my eyes back moaning out her name. I didn’t give a fuck if anybody hears I hope that dumbass Moss head does and get jealous.

It didn’t take long for me to spray her pretty throat with my seed again, she always begged for me to cum in her mouth, and at first I didn’t really find it appealing to do so, but fuck that I let her pull away for a second and held her head with one hand seeing drips of my cum fall down the sides of her wet cheeks.

“‘S good?” She sighed scooping some of the cum from her lips and sucked on her finger moaning.

“Stand up.” Sanji commanded, you did as told immediately hearing the rasp in his voice, he kissed your lips making sure he tasted himself and your saliva combined. The taste was bitter, but addicting nonetheless. Sanji kept kissing until he pushed you on the wall to slide off the rest of your thin panties away swiftly and slid his fingers in your cunt. Slightly amazed at how wet you’ve gotten from deep throating him. He groaned at the slimy feel of your warm insides.

“Fuck I missed you—don’t leave me again okay?” I didn’t care how needy I sounded, y/n had to know how I felt. How much she meant to me. I couldn’t wait to taste her again. She was always my favorite sweet, I got on my knees. She blushed looking so embarrassed. I loved having to look up at my Princess.

“Hey. Look at me.” I softened my voice, “I have to see your face, baby. Remind me how you look when you cum—“

I didn’t give her anytime to reply I pryed her legs apart and placed her free hand in my hair before I opened her pretty pussy apart and sucked on her clit. I fucking needed this so bad. Her slit was so wet and so ready for me I grabbed her ass against and pushed her pelvis into my face completely.

“Oh Sanji!” Her moans were like a melody, I felt my cock twitch at every cry she did for me and to think I’m the one causing her to feel this good made me groan inside her I could almost feel myself getting ready to cum right with her.

“I missed this pussy so much…” I mumbled with her clit in between my lips tugging it a little and sucking carefully. I had a deeper craving so I threw her thigh on my shoulder and tongue fucked her mercilessly.

“I’m so close! Sanji—pleaseee ah!” She swayed her hips to the rhythm of my tongue . I felt my orgasm approach too.

“Cum—cum in my mouth..”

Just like the good girl she was she even squirted a little too, she tasted perfect. I felt myself leak and make a mess of the floor, but hopefully she didn’t mind it.

She began to shake in the legs, I didn’t mind I would catch her if she tried to fall anyways, picking her up I started marking her neck while moving her to the bed. I was overwhelmed with ideas; doggy style? Sideways? Matting press? I couldn’t think as I toyed with her slit with my fingers and sucked and licked her neck.

“Sanji…please..put it in…”

No time to really think if my Princess wanted my cock right then and there I just rose up a bit and slid myself right in. Words cannot explain how incredible she felt. It didn’t compare to any toy I got or my fist AT ALL.

She cockwarmed me for a moment. I Just couldn’t get myself to move. I knew if I did I’d probably end up cumming again. But my Princess was impatient feeling herself move her hips on her own so greedily causing me to fall all my weight on top of her giving her neck weak kitten licks.

“Baby w-wait wait I—“

“Please Sanji…ah! I need it! I need you!”

I couldn’t be so rude as to ignore my sweetheart’s wishes. I was still so Sensitive from already cumming 3 times, but I didn’t care she had to be taken care of.

“F-fffuck!” I strained out my mouth setting the pace of my strokes. My hips were stuttering against hers and I was too focused of fixing my thrust she grabbed my face to kiss me oh so passionately.

“You feel so good, Sanji….” Her soft words made me slow down and grab her body tightly against mine. She curled her legs around my waist not wanting to let go of my lips, moaning and crying out. She was so tight my mind was in a blur, we kept panting in between kisses to breath. We couldn’t be more closer and I loved it. Maybe it was because it’s been so long or maybe it was because I was too drunk off her amazing pussy to realize but she had already just came on my cock and I was still pumping her full.

“Sanji!”

She repeated my name in broken syllables with each drag of my cock as I went faster. I felt myself about to cum, I wasn’t sure why but I moved off her lips and rose up to grab her headboard. I saw the slightly excitement in her eyes as I pushed back her legs further, she held them tightly. I glanced at her glistening pussy spasming and clenching around me almost as if she is trying to keep my cum inside her. At this point I wouldn’t mind.

Seeing her pregnant with my seed growing inside her make my heart flutter but it also made my cock harder.

I began to snap my hips harshly against her ass not missing a beat, the grip I had on her bed caused it to bang loudly against the wood wall. I knew at least one person could hear us from outside I didn’t care I just wanted to see her cum on me again. Her breast were bouncing against her thighs, her eyes were rolled back, drool was falling from the side of her mouth.

Fuck I can cum just by looking at her face.

Y/N started to bite her own arm, which made me know she was about to cum. It’s so cute how she bites so much when she is so close. I slowed down just enough to kiss her. She loved kissing as she was reaching her high too. I massaged and pinched her sensitive nipples while she cried out. Feeling her twitch all over me made me cry out too. I never had a better orgasm before in my entire life.

Maybe that 2 year break was needed because that was probably the best sex I’ve ever had with her.

Once we settled down she started to let out airy laughs looking at my sweaty pink face peppering me in kisses.

“You good, baby?”

This girl’s voice is ganna drive me insane.

“I’m amazing. You’re amazing!” I melted in her touch before she buried me in her soft rounded chest. I couldn’t help myself I did latch onto her nipple sucking it a bit as she massaged my sweaty hair.

“Mmmm.” She sighed pecking me pushing me in closer, after a few seconds i let her nipple slip out of my lips and kissed my way up to hers.

“I know you Gatta get up in a second, but I’m glad to be with you again…I love you, baby.” She wiped my wet cheeks.

“I am too…I love you more, my love.”

I was going to get up, but just a few more minutes of being in her embrace …

It felt like home again being in her arms.

#one piece #TimikosSanji #one piece headcanons #black reader #one piece smut #one piece x female reader #sanji #sanjionepiece #sanji imagine #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #one piece x black!reader #black foot sanji #sanji smut #female reader #one piece scenario #x female reader

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bcdrawsandwrites · 1 year

Text

[ID: The first image Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #5: Never Be Hurt Again” On the right is a light blue animated figment of a scaler (a long metal dental tool with thin hooks on either end).

The second image is a Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “Never Be Hurt Again” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

Okay I keep forgetting to post this, but I thought of it just now so I’m finally taking an opportunity to get this posted! Here is, FINALLY, my next fic for my @badthingshappenbingo challenge! \

I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, requests are closed!

This request is for @loveandmad! Hope you enjoy it! Also big thanks to @jaywings and Pinky G Rocket for beta-reading.

Prompt: Never Be Hurt Again Characters: Caligosto Loboto, his parents, and various OCs for his backstory Warnings: Emotional manipulation/parental abuse, (SPOILERS: implied dental torture)

---~~~---

Traffic honked and wailed in the streets below his window. It was not the city he had been in originally, the one that his parents sent him to a few years ago; he had chosen this city.

—~~~—

"Stoneton?" Caligosto looked from the pen in his father's outstretched hand to the application on the kitchen table. "That's on the other side of the country."

"Yes, but it's a very good city," his mother replied, with the same enthusiasm she'd used to talk about the "very good highschool" or the "very good summer camp" that he'd been forced into in the past, that he still had nightmares about.

"I don't know..."

"Look, son, we're doing you a favor!" His father slammed the pen onto the table. "You want dental school? Here it is. We're offering to pay for your tuition!"

"Your father is willing to give up the money he was putting toward his second yacht! We're making a personal sacrifice for you!" His mother looked away. "I don't know how we managed to raise such an ungrateful child..."

"No, no! It's not that—"

"We're doing this for you, son! You want to live your dream of becoming a dentist, we're letting you do that!"

You never wanted to before, Caligosto wanted to say, but the words retreated back down his throat. To live his dream... he couldn't let this slip away. He stared down at the application again, then grabbed the pen, the yellow gleam of the kitchen light glinting off its metal surface.

—~~~—

Light danced on the tip of the hook as he turned the scaler in his hands. He stared at it, feeling its weight in his palm, remembering the last time he'd used it.

His fingers clenched around it, knuckles white beneath the glove.

—~~~—

The room was a blinding white and silver, save for the dull gray chairs and the dummy heads strapped to them. The heads were painted in flesh tones, faceless save for gaping mouths with complete sets of teeth. Many of his classmates had shied away from these at first, but Caligosto had always rushed to his assigned dummy, half his mind giddy with the thought of finally getting to practice, and the other half with the thought of his parents seeing him as a successful dentist.

He held the scaler down toward the dummy, ready to practice methods of scraping plaque from teeth, when his professor strolled by.

"Now, you'll probably deal with patients who put up a fight," she stated. "Some patients will struggle and squirm. Some may try to bite."

Of course, they'd gone over this before. This professor had always liked to make a show of taking off her glove and revealing a scar one of her own patients had left on her hand. So he nodded along, continuing to move the hook between the fake teeth, digging gently into the silicone gums.

"But you may even have patients who are... unnatural, so to speak."

He paused.

She strode toward a cabinet in the back of the lab as she spoke. "Of course, you need special methods when dealing with them. There are certain tools we have in the medical profession to deal with them, which I'll show you in a moment." She glanced over her students with a glint in her eye.

Slowly he looked back down at the dummy, unsure of why his hands were going numb.

"They're known for all sorts of tricks," she went on, turning to open the cabinet. "They can dismantle your tools with just a look!"

His hand twitched, leaving a small scratch on a fake tooth.

"Or they could reach out and infect you with a deadly virus, just by their touch..."

He gripped the scaler, his knuckles turning white.

"Even if they don't touch you, some can reach out with an invisible hand and change your future, just enough to bring you misfortune!" Finally she turned around with a strange pair of earmuffs in her hand, and something about the sight of them sent a jolt up his spine and caused his chest to burn, and he jumped away from his dummy. His professor didn’t notice as she continued, "That's why—"

"Th-that's not true."

He suddenly became aware that everyone was staring at him, and that his professor's grin had fallen. "Pardon?"

It was too late to back down, so he straightened his back. "They can't dismantle something instantly. They can do it without their hands, but they still need to pull it apart. And there's no psychic power that can cause illness, unless they're spinning you around like a ferris wheel!" He snorted. "And if they could change their future, wouldn't we see a lot more of them winning the lotter—"

"Stop."

He shut his mouth, but his eyes were locked on the earmuffs she held, and he wasn't sure why the sight of them was making him tremble.

The professor approached him, her gaze dark. "Are you defending these mentalists, Loboto?"

"Wh-what?!" he sputtered, head snapping up. "No! I just—"

She got in his face, and he swore he could feel some form of terrible, familiar energy from the earmuffs in her hands. "Never in my class would I ever have expected to encounter a psychic sympathizer!"

The phrase turned his stomach to ice and lit his head ablaze—outraged that she would accuse him of such, and horrified by the implications.

It wasn’t the last time he would hear it, or even worse terms that he didn’t like to think about.

They came up during a meeting with the dean regarding his dismissal from the college. They were spat upon him when he tried to apply for jobs in the area as he scrambled to find his footing. They were hissed at him from former classmates who had once gotten along with him.

The term was even snarled at him over the phone, when he contacted the last two people he could think of for help.

“Psychic sympathizer.”

—~~~—

The shriek of metal on glass brought him out of the memory, and he stared down at the faint scratch across his window.

After taking a moment to unclench his jaw, to breathe, to set the tool aside onto its cart, he turned away from the window and strode across the dark room. There was no point in reflecting on those memories, those terrible manglings of his character, those people who chased him away from what had felt like the one chance of ever achieving his dream. They were behind him now.

But his foot nudged a book that stuck out from the lowest shelf, and he reached down to adjust it, frowning when he noted the misaligned printing on the spine.

—~~~—

Caligosto plucked up the book, flipped through it, picked off the sticker, and slipped it into his jacket. It had gotten easier after the first several times; his hands no longer shook, though his nerves still fluttered in his chest. After browsing through the shop for another quarter hour, he shrugged and trotted out, bidding the owner good-day as he headed back to his apartment to plot his next course of action.

The book, while a measly paperback, was a signed copy, and would surely yield him enough money to cover the rest of this month's rent, which was due in two days. He just needed to choose the next store carefully—one he hadn't been to in a while. There was Jamie's down the road, but he'd just sold a set of pilfered baseball cards there a week ago. He hadn't been to the one on 5th and Maple in a while, but it was closed today... Ah, right, the one another town over—he hadn't been there in a couple months, so that one should be all right. It would be a bit of a hike, but it would be worth it.

So he made the trip, which ate up a chunk of his day, clutching the book under his jacket. Just one more time, and he would be set for another month—another month to figure out how to get out of this dump.

"Got a good one for you this time!" Puffing up his chest, he slapped the book onto the counter. The force at which he'd done it had caused the binding to come somewhat loose, and he fought the urge to wince, hoping the man wouldn't notice. "It's a signed copy, you see?"

The shop owner slid the book closer to himself, lifting it up and turning it this way and that, studying it through narrowed eyes.

Even though he'd gotten away with it before, the sweat still trickled down his back as he awaited the man's evaluation. Maybe he could settle for a lower price if the shopkeeper wasn't willing to pay what it was worth—just so long as he could cover his rent, that was all he needed—

The man huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Not a signed copy," he remarked. "It's a photocopy." He'd pointed out the spine, which, now that he looked more closely, didn't even have the title aligned, part of it folding over onto the back cover of the book. When the man opened it, his finger traced the margins, which didn't line up with the edges of the pages. He set the book back on the counter, giving him an unpleasant grin, one with poorly-placed veneers, revealing the blackened teeth between where the porcelain didn't line up with the gums. "I'll give you two bucks."

He trembled all over, the blood rushing from his face, before his mouth twisted. "I hope you choke on your own rotten teeth!" He snatched the book before storming out.

His trek back to his apartment was made in a blind, numb haze, his stomach sinking as he wondered just how he could word a plea to his landlord to allow him another week to pay the rent. If his landlord would even allow that, if his landlord hadn't already heard the gossip being spread about him.

The thoughts left him the second a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him behind a building. His mind clicked into self-preservation mode while some voice screamed in the back of his head that this was it, someone had caught him, or someone had heard the rumors and come after him—

"C-Caligosto, is that you?"

He found himself staring at a young man with a frightened, pale face, and dark circles under his eyes. At first he narrowed his eyes at him, prepared to bolt, only to realize he recognized the man's messy orange hair, though it was a lot messier than the last time he'd seen it.

"...Bower," he said slowly, yanking his arm away. He'd shared a few classes with the student during his short time at the university. "What do you want?"

"Help," Bower choked, huddling in on himself. "I... I just need your help with—"

"I haven't been a student in months, in case you haven't noticed," he said, voice dripping in bitterness.

"Yes, exactly, that's exactly why I need your help!"

He stared at him. "What."

"Everyone avoids you, so—so... no one would know!" A manic smile stretched across Bower’s face as he spread out his sweaty hands.

"...No one would know what?"

"Look, I-I kinda owe someone some money—"

"You're talking to the wrong person."

He turned away, but Bower caught him by the shoulder and turned him back around. Jerking his arm away, he grit his teeth and glared down at the man, who held up his hands.

"I owe them a lot of money! And—and if you can help me get some, I'll give you half."

He opened his mouth to protest, and closed it, looking away as he mulled things over. "Do you have a plan of some sort?"

"I-I do. But it's risky, and I need help. And after that, you never have to speak to me again!"

"...You never spoke to me anyway."

"Look, I know, just—please, just this once?"

Deep down, he could feel something—something telling him it was nice to feel needed. Not to mention, he did need the money on short notice.

He steeled himself. "All right. What's the plan?"

—~~~—

He shook his head. While it had been the moment to launch him into his current career, he'd been foolish to think that he'd been needed by that idiot. No, Bower hadn't needed him specifically. If he'd refused, he would've found someone else. No, Bower had used him, and had been planning on keeping all the money for himself, if he could get away with it (which he hadn't—as he'd predicted, Bower had gotten caught by the police, and ratted him out, but he'd been long gone by the time they'd come looking for him).

He'd been free.

—~~~—

With his few possessions in a duffel bag hanging on his shoulder, Loboto strolled down the sidewalk of the new town, which looked brighter and more promising than his old college town ever had.

It would be a new leaf for him. Perhaps he could forge a license and start a dentist practice, if not here, then somewhere further out. The robbery had given him more than enough money to rent a new apartment for the rest of the year, so housing wouldn't be a problem for a while. Just so long as he could find a job to start with...

He stopped at the bulletin board, perusing the job postings and skimming past event fliers. He wasn't terribly picky, so long as it was something that could pay for rent and still have some left over for food and savings—

A pair of familiar glasses caught his eye, and his blood ran cold.

Wanted: Caligosto Loboto.

His teeth grit so hard they nearly cracked, he tore the poster from the board, and ran.

—~~~—

...It was better now.

The police hadn't found him, of course. Never, in the past few years of his career, though they'd searched. Oh, they'd searched, and he'd had to move again later, but it was all good now.

Especially since his new client had opened up a world of new possibilities to him.

—~~~—

Loboto found her staring at the tools, still in pristine condition, arranged on the shelves. "Interested in those, are we?" He tipped his head. "Do you need some dental work done?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than his heart began to flutter in excitement, and he perked up. "I know you're here for business, but if you ever need some work done on your pearly whites, I can—"

Nora held up a finger. "I'm just here for business."

His heart and hopes dropped to the floor, and his shoulders drooped. "Yeah, of course."

Yet she was still looking over the tools, eyes narrowed. Without a word she picked up a dental hook, pressing it into one of her fingers until it drew blood.

"Hey!" he cried. "You should be wearing gloves—"

"These tools, Cal," she said quickly, rubbing the finger she'd pricked against her thumb, smearing the blood. "They look like they would hurt."

Grumbling, he snatched the hook away and hunted for a bottle of cleaning alcohol and a cloth. "No," he said absently, stooping down to snatch up a bottle. "In the right hands, the procedures can be mildly unpleasant at worst."

As he disinfected the tool, Nora reached out to him. "So could those same hands..." She gently grabbed one of his palms, and he yanked his hand away, shooting a glare at her. "...make them hurt?"

He stared at her.

"Perhaps, enough for a patient to beg, to plead, to give whatever information you want?"

Loboto held the hook away from her, but hesitated a moment. "...Why do you ask?"

Nora stepped back, regarding the tools on the shelves. "It doesn't look like they've seen much use, and it would be a shame for them to go to waste."

—~~~—

His hands shook, in spite of his smile.

This was it. He was finally going to see his dream come true—perhaps not in the way he'd originally planned, but that's the fun of it, isn't it? He was past all of that nonsense—his parents and professors and even the police trying to control him, trying to get in the way of his goals.

His dreams were coming true. He was finally, finally getting to put his skills to use. And no one was going to convince him otherwise.

"Cal!" a harsh voice called from the room he'd remade into a new "dentist's office." "Your patient isn't cooperating. Get in here!"

"Right away!" he called in return, wheeling his cart into the room.

On the other side of the room was his client, Nora, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. And before her, strapped to the dental chair, was his patient. Both his mouth and eyes were wide, the former from a mouth prop forcing his jaw open, and the latter from terror.

Loboto looked him over, selecting the scaler from his cart and fighting to keep his hand from shaking. He looked from the patient's teeth and gums, then to Nora, who nodded impatiently at him. He stared down at the pointed tip of the tool in his trembling hand—one of many tools that hadn't seen use since his college days.

"Get on with it," Nora hissed.

He clenched the tool, forcing his hand to still, and aimed it at the patient's gums, grinning down into his terrified eyes. "Say aaah!" he said, and jabbed.

#caligosto loboto #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #bad things happen bingo #my art #my writing #fanfic #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH #I really wound up agonizing over this one for a while for some reason #(also I know the reference to yachts might be a bit of an anachronism)#(but Psychonauts is no stranger to those sooooo)

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rosetheex-editor · 6 months

Text

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins from a bedroom floor, someone can be heard hammering nails into something. Before propping the phone up to show a metal torso, with one arm. And a lady sitting on the floor. The woman doesn't speak but a voice is heard in the background.]

?: Rose? How long have you been up?

[Voice identified: Henry.]

[The other person responds with something out of frame, causing Henry to gasp.]

H: ROSE YOU HAVEN'T SLEPT? YOU SHOULD HAVE ISN'T PR COMING OVER TODAY?

[A sharp knock can be heard, along with giggling.]

[The other person speaks pointing at the metal torso. Her voice sounding like it was put through a cheese grater.]

R: h- hide buddy…

H: Yep.

[Rose grabs the phone and slowly gets up, grabbing two crutches before moving to the door.]

R: o- ow… my throat…

[Rose opens the door slowly.]

[Behind the door stands a group of women. All smiling. Ness is there with the leader, who happens to also be the tallest.]

?: OMG! Hey girl!

[Voice identified: Ophelia.]

R: tall…

?: Yeah… she's very tall and a lesbian… Brain why?

[Voice identified: Ness.]

R: n- nobody in… pr is straight.

O: Damn straight! I mean. Um. Damn gay!

[Ophelia giggles, the volume of her voice increasing. Seemingly by accident.]

O: So! May I come in?

?: Before you do, can I just say, Rose. Your voice sounds like shit.

[Voice identified: Eden.]

O: Eden! Be nice!

R: hi… evely-

[Rose cuts herself off, Ness looking worried by the second.]

R: eden.

Ed: Yeah. Thanks for getting it right this time.

[Eden clacks her teeth together, showing off the fangs that had sunk into Rose’s arm just over a month ago.]

R: t- that reminds me…

[Rose lifts her arm into frame, slowly removing the bandages and showing the scar to the PR members and Ness.]

R: s- still alive bitch

?: Woah! Eden, you can just. Give scars like that now? Awesome!

[Voice registered, awaiting name…]

Ed: Oh, shut up, Becky!

[Name registered: Becky.]

Be: Fine! We’ll be talking about this later though. That’s cool as fuck!

R: not so… c- cool when you’re in a hospital bed… f- for almost a month.

Ed: I’d do it again in a heartbeat, dicknips.

R: a- and i'd be happy to bash… y- your fuckin head in bitchlips.

O: Okay, I totally love mixing swears together as much as the next gal, but we have a few things to work out, don’t we?

R: eden… isn't coming in.

Ne: Rose just.

R: Eden. i- isn't. coming. i- in.

Ed: I didn’t want to, anyway. Lived here for weeks, I’ve seen enough.

[Before anyone can delay her entry any longer, Ophelia steps in, grabbing Ness and Becky, pulling them in after her. Her grip on Ness’ arm is tighter than her grip on Becky’s hand.]

Ne: OW! Ophelia my arm-

O: So! Where’s Adam? I’ve been so curious about him since I heard about the little guy!

R: d- don't know. nice dress tho-

[Rose is cut off by Henry screaming and a cat meowing.]

H: MY TOE!!!!

R: i- ignore him. nice dress ophelia.

O: Aw! Thank you! I actually… Oh, where is my bag! Adelia? Where’s my suitcase?

[A distant voice is heard, presumably Adelia.]

Ad: Right here girl! Sorry, I had some trouble with it.

[A suitcase is rolled into the apartment. Ophelia grabs it and opens it up. Revealing a ton of shopping bags.]

O: I felt bad about taking Ness out of the country without permission. So I got you some things to make up for it!

[Ophelia beams at Rose. Almost eerily. But the rest of her face and tone is friendly.]

R: n- none of this is gonna… spy on me right?

O: Of course not!

R: a- and speaking of ness… i… s- see y'all gave her… a b- bit of a makeover?

O: Yep! She bought that on her own, though. Amazing what a Showfall company card can buy you!

[Rose turns to only face Ness, She has on a long purple dress with red roses, a red bow is placed on her short green hair. as well a fancy necklace is placed around her neck.]

R: y- you good ness?

Ne: Oh yeah! They took care of me, don't worry! Right Ophelia?

O: For sure! Yeah! Ness was a great addition to girls night.

R: d- don't hurt her and… m- maybe if you want she can tag-

[Rose is cut off by another scream, causing her to scream in return.]

R: GIVE ME A MINUTE!

[Rose coughs.]

R: keep her safe… she c- can tag along again i guess… just don't hurt her.

O: Of course, Rose. Why would we ever hurt her?

H: ROSE IT’S ON MY FOOT!

R: give me a minute!

Ne: Wait what's on henry's-

[Rose sets her phone on a counter in a way everyone is visible, before running off.]

Ne: -foot.

O: She’s nice!

[Ophelia elbows Ness, a smug grin on her face.]

Ne: Ow! what was that for!

[Ness laughs, clearly joking.]

O: You’ve gotta shoot your shot, girl!

Ne: WHA- I- UM-

[Ness' face turns a bright red, she hides it in her arms.]

Ne: I… was already gonna do that actually.

O: Well hurry it up, buttercup! You’re going to lose her to some other girl if you don’t act fast!

Ne: I WAS GONNA DO IT TONIGHT-

[Ness cuts herself off before falling to the ground, As soon as that happens A brick comes flying through the window being caught by Ophelia. Attached is a piece of paper.]

[Ophelia stares at it, before showing it to Ness.]

O: Look. Seems like your secret admirer wants to give you a gift.

Ne: 'You won't get the chance, you'll lose your head'? What the fuck?

O: Oh well. Doesn’t matter.

[Ophelia grabs the note and shoves it into her mouth. Swallowing it.]

Ne: God… I really hope y'all find this person… But um yeah… I was gonna give Rose a literal Rose tonight and do this whole thing…

O: Awww! That's so adorbs! Let’s get this wrapped up so you can go do that, eh?

[Rose can be heard sighing.]

R: s- sorry… a project of mine… f- fell on henry's foot.

Ne: IS HE OK???

R: y- yeah… laying with luna right now.

Be: Hate to interrupt. But… Adam? Can we see him?

[A man sneaks far behind the women, fire extinguisher in hand.]

Be: And Leon, you can put the fire extinguisher down.

?: How the fuck?

[Voice identified: Leon.]

Be: Hey! These enhancements aren’t just for show!

[She motions to her mechanical antennae.]

R: ugh… I'll get him. he's not moving though.

O: Wonderful, bring him here.

[Rose slowly walks out of frame, returning after almost a minute with Adam.]

R: h- here… j- just don't hurt him.

[Before Ophelia can take the arm, a robotic voice rings out through the apartment.]

?: CALIBRATION COMPLETE.

[Voice identified: Adam.]

O: Oh?

R: ADAM?

A: VIRUS WIPED. POWERING ON.

[The arm whirs into motion. Moving each individual part one at a time. Before turning to face Ophelia.]

R: ADAM OH MY GOD YOUR BAC-

[Rose's voice stops as she enters a coughing fit, coughing blood visible on her bottom lip.]

A: You.

O: Hm?

[Adam lunges at Ophelia, wrapping himself around her neck. She yelps in surprise.]

R: a- adam no! stop!

[Ness tries to remove Adam only to fail.]

R: ADAM GET OFF!

[Rose coughs some more.]

Ne: ADAM ROSE IS HURT! GET SOME WATER!

[Ophelia laughs, seemingly unaffected by Adam’s attack. Until he curls the tips of his fingers inwards, and she stops laughing. Instead grabbing for the base of the prosthetic.]

R: DON'T HURT HI-

[Rose coughs even more.]

Ne: Adam now!

[Ophelia yanks the arm off of her neck, red now dripping from a few spots down onto her dress, she pouts a little, and holds Adam away from her.]

R: d- DON'T YOU DAR-

[Rose makes a noise that barely sounds human, Ness turns pale and starts screaming at the people in the room.]

Ne: I'LL GET THE FIRST AID KIT ONE OF Y'ALL JUST GET HER SOME WATER!

[Ness runs out of the room.]

O: Now, what was that for?

A: You know. Bitch.

R: a- adam… what are you talking about…

A: PR. Virus.

[Ophelia rolls her eyes. And stares at Adam, smiling slightly.]

O: You’re upset about that? Jeez, dude! Way to hold a fuckin’ grudge!

R: adam. bat.

[Rose slowly stands up, using her hand to wipe the blood from her mouth.]

O: Don’t.

R: w- what's stopping me?

A: Me. Sit. I need to. Converse.

R: f- fine…

A: Thank you.

O: I feel a little goofy holding you up like this. Can I put you down or are you going to attack me again?

A: Please place me down.

O: Alright.

[The arm is set down, Ophelia tilts xer head at him.]

A: Why.

O: Why what?

A: Why put the virus. In there.

O: Buddy, I don’t know the reasoning, I’m not the one who did it.

A: Caused me to hurt. People. Immensely. Why would you do that.

O: I’m trying to think like Cass, here. A distraction? But from what? Hm. Yeah, I have no clue.

R: j- just a guess… m- maybe from… eden

O: Maybe. But you don’t have to say her name with such disgust, Rose. That’s mean. She was just doing her job, you know.

R: i… t- trusted her… t- thought of her like m- maybe a sibling… a- and she put me in the… h- hospital for almost a month.

O: That’s on you for doing that, girl. There were tons of people warning you. I remember seeing all of that and sweating bullets, but you just wouldn’t believe them.

R: i… i g- guess i've always… d- done that…

O: Mhm. You need to trust people way less. I learned that the hard way 75 years ago. Anyway. Adam. I have no idea what to tell you, dude.

A: Liar.

O: Hm.

[She leans in, and whispers something that the phone can’t pick up. Her volume lowering to a near silence. Despite being metal, Adam seems to tense up.]

A: I hope you explode.

O: Alright, man. Uh, so… can I get some water? Please? If you wouldn’t mind.

[A friendly smile can be seen plastered on her face, she looks directly at Rose. For just a second too long. And then looks back at her suitcase.]

O: Oh! Right! Gifts! Hold on, I’ll get them out!

[Rose continues coughing, out of frame enough where it isn't visible what's happening. She speaks, her voice now even more messed up.]

R: f- fine. g- get a glass… g- get the tupperware of food… too.

O: Alright!

[Ophelia bends down to rummage through the suitcase with one arm, and the other extends over to the cupboard, which is fairly far away, and out of frame. The tap can be heard turning on. A few moments later, it turns off, and her arm retracts with a glass of water in hand.]

Be: I keep forgetting you can do that. Scares the shit out of me every time.

O: Ha! Yeah, sorry, Becks! Now, where did I put that…

[Ophelia pulls out a few bags. And hands them to Rose, not getting up.]

O: Open it! I made sure to get you something you’d like.

R: g- give me a second…

[Rose seemingly points at something out of frame.]

O: Do you need help cleaning that up? I’m an expert, you know. I’d be happy to clear all of that up for you.

R: w- we have a mop… w- where? uhhhhhh s- shit where did dad… put the mop…

[Ophelia looks at Rose for a few seconds, her expression softening for a small moment, before snapping right back into place. xe gets up and starts looking for the mop.]

R: d- don't worry about it… j- just… i- I'll open the bags…

[Rose opens the bags one by one, pulling out multiple shirts and jackets. Each one looking as if they were taken from the 80s and 90s, many of them having pastel colors. Rose sets them back in the bag before slowly standing up.]

R: t- thanks… i guess…

O: Do you like them? I really hope you do, I’d feel terrible if they weren’t to your liking.

R: i… like them…

[Rose coughs again, this time the blood falling from her mouth is visible. As Ness walks back into frame.]

Ne: Hey adam. Uh Ophelia I got the first aid kit.

O: Thanks!

[Zey extend their arm to Ness, grabbing the first aid kit, and retracting it back. Beginning to bandage her neck.]

O: Today’s visit has been wonderful, thank you for having me over!

Ne: Um… Did anyone get Rose water? Like I asked?

O: I took care of it, don’t worry.

[Rose drops to the floor again, the coughing continuing.]

R: s- son of a BITCH!

Be: Ooooh. That doesn't look good. Does she have tuberculosis? We have a bit of experience with that. Remember when Cass had it? That wasn’t fun.

Ne: No um… I actually don't know…

R: n- none of your business… j- just know s- showfall t- tried and f- failed… t- to get me back…

O: Hm. Ness, keep an eye on her, not like you haven’t been, but… yeah.

Ne: I mean… It probably doesn't help that she screamed bloody murder for god knows how long… When Edgar… Y'know and um…

O: We should get going, but before we do, I have another thing for you guys!

[Xe takes another bag out, and places it on the counter, closing her suitcase. Before rummaging around and grabbing a tupperware container. She takes a step towards the door.]

Ne: What's that?

O: We forgot you didn’t have your ears pierced… so we got these. They’re real diamonds, by the way. So don’t lose them!

Ne: Huh?

Be: Ophelia, you can tell them upfront!

O: But that’s no fun!

Be: Ugh. We got you diamond earrings, but we forgot you don’t have your ears pierced. So we had to get you the necklace.

Ne: Oh um…

[Rose can be heard seemingly talking to herself.]

R: m- mai… y- you really couldn't wire anything right… i said that outloud…

O: That’s a little deeper than I want to go today! There’s a few more pieces of jewelry in there, too. Just as a fun treat. Some of that stuff is from my own jewelry box!

Ne: Oh um… Thanks!

O: Only the best for our very own honorary PR member! Now, we should really get going, have fun, you two!

[With that, the PR members finally leave the apartment, their giggling can be heard retreating down the hall, along with a few giddy shrieks. Possibly from gossip. They finally fade. Leon stands up straight, having been crouched in the corner for the whole visit.]

Le: ‘Honorary PR member’? Ness. You have some explaining to do.

Ne: I know I know! Right now can one of y'all get Rose her medicine while I find the mop?

Le: Alright. [Aside.] Coast is clear! Y’all can come out now!

[Leon goes to rummage through some cabinets while Liam and Katherine emerge from a room.]

R: h- hi… m- mom… l- liam…

?: Hey, I heard the commotion from in there, are you okay?

[Voice identified: Katherine.]

[Liam waves, but says nothing.]

R: B- besides the blood… and whatever e- else… y- yeah… j- just wish that wasn't one of the side effects from… y'know the night that task m- manager tried to get me back…

K: I know, you’re going to be fine, though. You’re going to have some medicine, and maybe a bit of rest. Alright?

R: a- alright… i w- was… working on buddy all n- night so…

Ne: [Distant.] Who the fuck is "Buddy"?

R: r- robot me and henry a- are… w- working on for sparrow…

[Katherine walks over and picks up Adam.]

K: You’ve caused a lot of panic in this apartment, you know.

A: Do not. Focus on me. Other issues. All software and hardware is in perfect condition.

Le: Found it!

[Leon walks back into frame and hands something to Rose.]

R: t- thanks…

[Rose takes something out of the bottle, presumably medicine.]

R: s- soda?

Le: Won’t the carbonation hurt your throat?

R: d- damnit… kool-aid?

Le: Yeah, of course. I can do that.

[Leon walks back out of frame. Just as Liam walks over with a piece of paper.]

R: 'I’m g- glad the blond one wasn’t here. b- but I don’t like that any of them were in here in the first place… t- they killed my dad. I d- don’t like them'… i k- know liam… i k- know…

Ne: [Distant.] Sorry about all of that by the way…

[Without saying anything, Liam hugs Rose. Then retreats back into his room.]

R: i… feel so b- bad for l- liam… g- god…

Le: Yeah. He’s just a kid. He hasn’t even graduated… high school– FUCK WAIT. HE HASN’T BEEN GOING TO SCHOOL.

R: o- oh… fuck…

Le: LIAM. PLEASE TELL ME YOU WERE HOMESCHOOLED OR SOMETHING. PLEASE TELL ME WE HAVEN’T MADE YOU MISS MONTHS OF SCHOOL.

[Liam’s hand pokes out of the room in a thumbs down.]

Le: FUCK! SHIT! WE NEED TO–

K: Leon, calm. It’ll be fine.

R: i n- never got… t- to graduate… a- and i turned out f- fine.

[Liam pokes his head out, a neutral expression on his face. He goes back in and then returns with another note. A linear equation written out on it. He hands it to Rose.]

R: s- seven times five… equals fifteen… um… um…

Le: Rose.

R: Um… x equals… um…

[Liam grabs the paper, and writes something down on it. Showing it to Rose.]

R: I WOULD’VE GOTTEN IT!

[Rose coughs again.]

R: ow.

[Liam shakes his head, then walks over to Leon, the two of them having a conversation via Liam’s paper. It fades into the background.]

[Ness runs in with the mop and a bucket.]

Ne: Katherine I'm really sorry about PR coming in I swear on m-

[Ness cuts herself off.]

Ne: On Mari's mother. I didn’t mean for any of that!

K: It’s fine. We’re just mad that you let them take you to the fucking Bahamas without even CHECKING IN FIRST.

Ne: In my defense. Alcohol blood loss and 5 hours of sleep do NOT mix well.

K: The hell even happened on that trip?

Ne: Apparently I sang 'Copacabana' on top of a table… Uh I don't remember much else.

K: I’m going to guess we’ll get a detailed description from one of them on that blog.

Ne: Yeah probably… Um…

[Ness shows Katherine her hand, missing ring finger and all.]

Ne: That happened.

[Katherine shrieks, grabbing Ness’ arm and inspecting it.]

K: What the fuck did they do? Was this during the trip? Is it infected?

Ne: Me and Eden got in a fight in the park. I'll explain if you ask. No. And also no.

Le: Oh yeah! There was a transcript!

[Katherine turns to where Leon’s voice was heard from, a look of disbelief on her face.]

K: This is why you shouldn’t confiscate my phone, LEON. I would’ve liked to know about that!

Le: Sorry!

Ne: I did more damage to her than she did to me… Stabbed her with a spear and almost broke her nose.

K: Your finger is missing! We– hold on, what's in that bag on the counter? Have you opened it yet?

Ne: No? But Ophelia said it was filled with jewelry.

K: I… we should open it, I think.

[She grabs the bag and opens it after walking back over to Ness. She yelps, and nearly drops the whole thing. Shoving the bag into Ness’ hands.]

Ne: What?

[Ness looks in the bag and slowly turns her head.]

Ne: Oh… There’s my finger…

Le: Guess it’s not missing, then! Sorry.

K: Of course they’d do that.

[A loud metal crash coming from one of the rooms, followed by a cat meowing.]

H: [Distant.] Buddy fell again!

Ne: WE'RE BUSY!

K: HENRY GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE. NESS IS MISSING A FINGER.

H: BUDDY FELL ON MY FOOT I CAN'T WALK!

K: IT CAN’T BE THAT FUCKING HEAVY, CAN IT?

R: t- torso is like… a foot tall i think? and made of three inch thick metal… s- so yes it can.

K: Henry, you’re weak as fuck. You can walk. Don’t make me drag you out here.

[Henry walks into frame with a limp, His hair is messed up and his eyes are red.]

H: What?

K: Ness is missing a fucking finger!

H: Oh god damnit… Ness what school jock did you piss off this time?

Ne: I DIDN'T PISS OFF A JOCK THIS TIME! EDEN BIT IT OFF! Damn you get into one-

[Henry cuts Ness off with a cough.]

H: You went to the school nurse almost every day FOR A WHOLE SCHOOL YEAR! fighting the school football team. It was more than one.

Le: I had a friend like that back in the 80s!

K: Who?

Le: … Do I really need to say.

R: d- dad?

Le: Yeah, it was always something with that guy. One time he broke a water fountain after tripping into it. They gave him ice and he was back in class within 30 minutes.

Ne: Sounds like edgar. Anyway this is nothing! One time one of the members of the school football team hit me so hard into a locker, Like three of my ribs cracked!

K: Ness you’re missing a finger.

Ne: I still have nine more!

K: God, you guys are impossible! Since you won’t take your injury seriously, let’s change the damn topic before I bite one of them off. What day did you say those tickets were for?

Ne: The 28th? O H S H I T-

R: i- I'll get changed… e- end the transcript. wait… that's not the command…

Le: Wh– did you have one going on PURPOSE?

R: n- nope. i just know it's recording… b- because when the fuck is it not?

A: On. it.

[Adam skitters up to the phone.]

A: Goodbye chat.

[Transcript end.]

#((OOC) TW: blood)#showfall ask blog #encoreverse blog

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adelainejdevyn · 1 year

Text

Piece of Art

If someone would please leak the missing threesome scene in A Court of Silver Flames, I'd be forever grateful.

In the meantime, I'll be here; writing fanfiction about it. 🌶

Nesta leaned back against Cassian’s wet chest. The House had conjured up a thousand bubbles in the bathtub they were sharing. She felt Cassian tracing a pattern on the back of her neck, before he encircled his strong arms around her, gathering her more firmly against him. Nesta could feel him half hard against her backside, but she brought her hands up to hold on to his arms.

“You do realize,” Cassian murmured against her temple, “that you’re extremely lucky to have, not one, but two Illyrians in your company tonight, yes?”

She snorted, “You two are the lucky ones,” Nesta felt Azriel’s fingers wrap around her ankle, he pulled her leg until her foot rested on his lower abdomen, "I skipped my Valkyrie Bookclub for this, the novel we are currently reading is extremely juicy."

Azriel snorted.

“How was Hewn City, Az?” Cassian asked, patiently, “You haven’t spoken a word since you got back.”

“You talk enough for the both of us, brother.” Az said softly, his head leaned back against the rim of the bathtub they had squeezed into, his throat was exposed to them and his hazel eyes shut. Nesta wiggled her toes against him, he looked at her, an eyebrow raised.

“That bad?” she whispered, even though she knew it was useless to try to get Azriel to talk when he didn’t wish too. “We can talk about it, if you want.”

“No,” Azriel looked away, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Nesta felt Cassian’s chest move as he sighed, she thought twin frowns of concern appeared on both of their faces. Azriel rolled his eyes as he moved towards the pair, water sploshed over the side of the bath as he reached forward. His hands cupped Nesta’s face and he yanked her forward. His lips were harsh against her own, so different from Cassian’s, but just as experienced. His tongue seeked permission into her mouth, which she gave him.

Nesta crawled on his lap, her legs on either side of him. She could feel Cassian’s gaze burning on her spine as she deepened her kiss with Azriel and softly lowered herself onto him.

Azriel hissed against her lips, but his scarred hand had already reached between their slick bodies as he guided his cock into her warmth. Nesta sank on him quickly and moaned at his size. Azriel’s hands held her waist as she moved against him.

“Spank her ass, brother,” Cassian rasped from the other end of the bathtub, and Nesta moaned at the sound of his voice, “she likes that.”

Azriel did as he was told. The sharpness of his palm on her ass was delicious. Nesta rested her palms on the tattoos on Azriel’s broad chest as she rode him. She could hear Cassian’s harsh breath behind her. The water in the bath moved, not only with her movements but also with Cassian's as he stroked himself at the sight of Nesta riding Azriel’s cock.

Az’ hands guided her above him, his head falling back against the rim of the bathtub. His hazel eyes glazed in pleasure, Nesta eyed his massive wings jutting from his back, the half of them submerged in water and the top part gleaming ebony in the soft firelight.

“Cassian,” Nesta said, “please.”

She felt Cassian’s broad hand on the back of her neck, it spread a hot fire as he caressed her spine and rested on her ass. He pinched her there and she squirmed.

“Fuck.” Azriel cursed.

Cassian leaned forward, so that his mouth was against Nesta’s ear. His harsh breathing made her stomach clench, and she knew he was extremely turned on. Cassian encircled her throat with one of his hands and the other trailed lower on her ass.

Azriel moaned aloud as Cassian caressed his balls, and then his cock which was thrusting in and out of Nesta. Cassian’s wet fingers traveled upwards and circled her asshole.

“Cassian.” She whimpered again as he pushed a finger inside her. “Gods.”

One of Nesta’s hands left Azriel’s chest and reached behind her. Cassian’s hard cock was pulsing in her hand.

“Harder, Nes.” Cassian rasped as he thrust into her hand, “Fuck my brother harder.”

Cassian added another finger, the pressure from his touch and Azriel’s massive cock brought tears to her eyes.

“She’s close, Azriel.” Cassian grunted, “Look at the flush spreading over her breasts, brother, isn’t she a good girl? Getting filled by us?”

Nesta moaned at his words, and threw her head back, it landed on Cassian’s shoulder as she cried out in pleasure. Azriel let out a whimper as he spilled inside of her, and Cassian's cock hammered again in her hand as he came, painting her ass like a piece of art.

Author's note:

Curious to see which book the Valkyrie Bookclub is discussing? Check out Union of Souls and The Kingdom of Gods on my Wattpad page!

#nessian #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #nessian x azriel #missing scene #acosf #sjmaas #smut

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daughter-of-melpomene · 2 months

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This isn't so much a question as it is an open invitation to info dump about Catta and Ilya but I'm desperate to hear about others' Grishaverse OCs and I can't think of any specific questions 😅

Ahhh, thank you so much for this, Anon!! I think I’m just gonna give you five facts about each of them, since it’s been a while since I’ve talked about them and I don’t really know where to start (😅). And I’m also gonna tag @dancingsunflowers-ocs since I know she loves both of these babies!! <3

We’ll start with Catta, my beautiful neglected princess:

When Catta was eleven years old, she broke her wrist trying to race Nikolai down one of the longer Grand Palace hallways. The queen placed all of the blame on Catta and kept yelling at her for it while the palace doctor was trying to reset her wrist, and he was so frazzled by the queen’s shouting he wound up setting Catta’s wrist just a bit wrong. He fixed it, but she still has a small scar on her wrist from the incident.

The first time Catta tried kvas was thanks to Genya sneaking some in when she came to Catta’s room for one of their late night talks. She was seventeen and had never had so much as a sip of it before, because the queen had forbidden her from drinking alcohol, convinced that she would get drunk and embarrass the whole royal family. The kvas burned Catta’s throat and she nearly coughed up a lung after only a few sips, but the sight made Genya laugh, so she didn’t regret trying it, even if she never drank kvas again.

Once, only once, Catta had stolen one of Genya’s white keftas and tried it on, wanting to see herself in a Grisha garment and pretend for a moment that she was like her mother and hadn’t become just a disappointment to her father. She was only able to look at herself in the mirror for a few moments before she had to take it off, and she never even touched another kefta again.

After the Darkling is defeated and Nikolai becomes king of Ravka, he asks Catta if she would like to finally be legitimized as a Lantsov. Catta refuses - she knows that her brother will not treat her with the same neglect and contempt her father did for being a bastard, and after she thinks about it, she’d much rather keep her mother’s name… or perhaps, one day, even take Genya’s.

(And she does, in fact, take the name Safin once they get married. Despite this, Nikolai still recognizes Catta officially as his sister and makes sure that she and Genya have the appropriate privileges in the Grand Palace if they ever want them.)

And now let’s talk about Ilya, my sweet boy with the silver tongue:

For all his charm, Ilya is a terrible dancer. Jesper loves to laugh at him for how bad he is at it, but Kaz secretly finds it endearing, that with how charming his boyfriend is he’ll still never be able to seduce anyone with a dance.

Ilya and Jesper have had a playful, completely platonic flirting thing going since they met. Neither Kaz nor Wylan, when they start dating the boys, mind it at all, but Nina loves to call it their “little battle of the silver tongues”.

The first time Kaz was able to touch him without his gloves on, Ilya cried. They’d been slowly working on Kaz’s fear of touch for a long time, and though Ilya had never wanted or asked for more than Kaz was willing to give him, just knowing that the boy he loved trusted him enough to finally touch him skin-to-skin was enough to overwhelm him.

Though it’s never been a permanent thing, Ilya has performed at the Crow Club once or twice when it was a special occasion or the patrons wanted some entertainment that wasn’t drinking or gambling. He’s got a lovely voice and knows his way around a few songs on the guitar, and Kaz, though he’d never voice it, is absolutely smitten whenever he performs.

Ilya refuses to go on any more heists with the Crows after the Ice Court (“We all nearly died, Kaz, I don’t understand why you’d want to do it again”), but he gets into the habit of either making the crew dinner before they go off for their heists or having it ready once they come back. It’s his way of taking his mind off of his anxiety while his boyfriend and friends are putting themselves in danger, and also his way of contributing to the mission since the Crows are normally pretty happy to get a hot meal before or after they have to go off.

Thanks so much for asking about my babies!! It’s been so long since I’ve talked about them, so I really appreciate the opportunity. <3

#asks about my ocs #oc: catta rostova #oc: ilya dramir

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my-head-is-an-animal · 10 months

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Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 9 - Blood Bath

House did as she asked and went to rehab, Anna was there every day, visiting him, holding him, telling him about her day and he didn’t appreciate it for a single second. He snapped at her, told her he didn’t need her to be there, he shouted and complained he needed stronger meds, he hated every moment of it. And yet, she was there every day.

He knew she didn’t care about him yelling at her, she admitted she didn’t care very much about whether the treatment stuck, but this was the deal she struck and he needed to do his part.

Once he was out, he kept his drug use to a minimum and tried to do his job.

‘So, you wanna talk about what happened?’ House went to her apartment for dinner. She was tired, the previous night was spent at his and he wanted to spend another night with her.

Anna pulled her knees up to her chest while they settled on the sofa.

‘You have a gunshot wound on your shoulder,’ he said, gently. ‘It’s the only scar you haven’t told me about. You have scars on your legs, your arms, even your neck has a few shrapnel shaped abnormalities. I’ve asked about every single one of them and you’ve told me the truth. Now I’m asking about the gunshot wound.’

Anna just looked at him, running her hand through her soft hair, making him a little jealous.

‘Okay, point taken.’ She nodded. ‘I don’t want to talk about this in any great depth, I also don’t want you to get weird about it.’

‘Scouts honour.’ House held up some random scout sign, making her chuckle a little.

Anna cleared her throat, but she couldn’t look at him. ‘We we’re working with an American unit, doesn’t happen often, but when it does it’s only because the operation has mutual benefits. We got caught between two hot zones, a private called Steve went down with a bullet grazing his neck, he was bleeding out. I got there just in time to keep him steady until we could get him to a secure facility. Tritter came over to give me some cover, he was lying next to me… the kid was no older than fourteen, came from one side… Tritter pulled me off his friend to cover him… the kid fired, Tritter fired back… Steve died. That’s it.’

House watched as she looked up towards the light and he saw her cheeks were wet. He watched her for a few moments as she recomposed herself and wiped away her tears. Tritter had used her as a human shield to save his own pathetic life.

‘Anyway, you want another drink?’ She said.

‘Sure.’ House nodded, quietly.

House let her distance herself from the memory for a minute before standing up and following her to the kitchen. He leaned on the counter and watched her pour a much larger glass of whiskey for them both.

‘You wanna have sex?’ House asked, making her at least smile. ‘Some endorphins wouldn’t hurt, we could get high first?’

Anna tilted her head and frowned. ‘We could get high? You carrying weed these days?’ She took a mouthful of whiskey.

‘Not weed.’ He shook his head and pulled out a full bottle of Vicodin. Her smile began to fade. ‘One will be enough to relax you, I can make sure you don’t do anything stupid.’

‘You’re stupid.’ She raised her eyebrow.

‘I know.’ He chuckled, nodding. ‘What do you say? One night, do whatever you have to. I’ll be here.’

Anna leaned on the counter close to him. Her blue eyes scanned his face and he smiled at her. House knew that smile, he took out a single Vicodin and held it up for her.

‘Why are you doing this?’ She asked, her breath tickling his lips.

‘Because it’s fun,’ he said. ‘And we’re fun people.’

‘We’re damaged people.’

‘Fun is a better word.’

Anna didn’t have a comeback. ‘Okay.’ She whispered.

‘Open wide, you’re good at that.’ He made her chuckle as she opened her mouth. House place the Vicodin on her tongue and lifted her glass of whiskey for her to wash it down with. ‘If you’re going to get high, best do it with a doctor close by.’

Her eyes began dilating and soon Anna was giggling at almost everything he said. She smiled and she kissed him softly, she got him hard and she danced in the middle of her living room. House watched her, she was having fun and he checked her vitals every half hour that she did. Her heart rate was a little high and he recommended lying down for a while.

‘You wanna come to bed with me?’ She said, laughing.

‘Always.’ He smiled and helped her to her bedroom. She lay down in amongst the navy sheets, her T-shirt riding up to reveal her hips. ‘Take your pants off.’ He said, knowing her jeans would make her uncomfortable if she fell asleep.

‘I thought my heart rate was up,’ she raised her eyebrow as he got on with unbuttoning her jeans. ‘You trying to keep it up?’

‘I wish.’ He grinned, helping remove her jeans toss them over the chair in the corner of the room. House went to lay down on the other side, before she stopped him.

‘Ah, ah, you too.’ Her eyes were basically black and he wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to entertain her further, but on the other hand she would probably do as she was told quicker if he complied.

House nodded and stood up to take his off, Anna turned to lean on her elbow and watch him.

‘Shall I put music on for the show?’ She teased, making him laugh.

‘I think you should lie down.’ It wasn’t his usual style to be responsible, but Anna wasn’t his usual style anymore. She lay back with a sigh and House got in next to her.

‘Thank you.’ She whispered.

‘For what?’

‘For being here.’ She turned to face him. He didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled.

House checked her out once more before letting her fall asleep, she’d been fine in the morning, a little tired, but fine. The one good thing he got out of it was Anna slept soundly while he held her close to his body. Two nights in a row she was able to sleep soundly. He did good.

House woke the next morning alone, he put his hand out to feel for Anna, but she wasn’t there, her side of the bed was cold… and wet. House snapped up and saw his hand was covered in blood.

‘Anna?’ He called, feeling his leg flare with pain as he went to find her.

He could hear sobbing in the bathroom, the door was open and Anna was on the floor covered in blood. House was on his knees with her, checking for where the blood had come from. But she stopped him.

‘Greg,’ she breathed. ‘It was a miscarriage.’ Her face was wet with tears. Her bright blue eyes were clear, no sign of what she’d been through the night before. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She whispered and began sobbing again.

House just looked down at his hands, still covered in blood, he wasn’t sure what to say first. He figured to Vicodin was what did it, she took two in the end and drank more whiskey than she should have but he was on hand to make sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit or anything so he figured there wasn’t any harm at the time.

‘Did you know you were were pregnant?’ He asked.

‘I missed my last period.’ She said. ‘But I’m on meds that make me miss it every couple of months. It’s the first time I didn’t check.’

‘Why didn’t you check?’ He was starting to get angry and he knew it was just the pain, but he couldn’t take anything because his hands were covered in blood as was half her apartment.

‘I don’t know.’

House just stared down at her and felt the guilt take a hold of him. He did this to her, if he’d not offered her the Vicodin, she might have figured it out on her own and then they could have had a different conversation. Right now, he needed to make sure she wasn’t losing anymore blood.

He turned the shower on, cleaned up his hands, took a couple of pills and got Anna into the shower, she was fatigued and weak. There was nothing else for it, he got in with her and held her against his chest while the blood ran away down the drain. They stayed under the water for nearly an hour before she spoke.

‘I don’t think this is going to work out.’ She said it quietly, but he heard her. House closed his eyes, reached behind him to turn the shower off once the water ran clear and held her tighter.

‘I wish you didn’t say that.’ He said close to her ear.

Anna didn’t say anything else, but House didn’t stop taking care of her. She lost a lot of blood and she was shivering. He ran a hot bath, got rid of her bloody clothes and made sure she was comfortable for a while. Both of their phones had rung a few times, his wasn’t so much of a problem, but people may have been worried about Anna.

‘I need to call Cuddy.’ He said, stroking her hair while she relaxed in the water. ‘You need to rest for a few days, I can monitor you and work over the phone.’

Anna didn’t say anything, she just nodded. He’d never seen her like this before, she was just so helpless. House left to call Cuddy and let her know what was going on.

‘How sick?’ Cuddy didn’t need to know what kind of sick.

‘Temperature fluctuations, blood loss and… she’s on a come down.’ House admitted.

‘A come down from what?!’

‘Look, I’ll call when she’s better and you can ask her yourself what’s wrong,’ House just wanted to get back to Anna. ‘In the meantime, I can work from her apartment and make sure she doesn’t get any worse.’

He hung up before she could say anything else and thought for a moment. A miscarriage could have been serious, she may have had some unknown symptoms that hadn’t presented themselves yet.

House went back into the bathroom and looked down at where she was lying submerged in the water.

‘Feeling better?’ He asked.

‘Not really.’ She croaked. He sat beside her and checked her heart rate.

‘Heart rate is normal, your eyes are still red from the Vicodin, fatigue from the…’ he couldn’t finish the sentence. ‘You’re a little pale as well.’

‘It was yours if you were wondering.’ She sniffed. ‘I haven’t had sex with anyone else since I moved out here.’ House didn’t know what to say. ‘You aren’t angry?’

House just shrugged. ‘I didn’t know you were pregnant, this wasn’t your fault, so how can I be angry?’

Anna just stared at him, unsure what to say.

‘Look, let’s just get you better and then we can talk about it.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She whispered.

‘Okay, then we won’t.’ He conceded.

‘Will you get in the bath with me?’ She asked, innocently.

House nodded. ‘Sure. Scoot over.’

He stood up to take his T-shirt off and caught her smiling a little at him. It was a good sign. He got in behind her and let her lean back against his chest. She was a little cold, so he made sure to hold her close to his body and warm her up any way he could.

‘I was going to kill myself before I met you.’ She said, quietly.

‘Why?’ House frowned, stroking through her hair.

‘I just didn’t see the point in continuing on.’ She shrugged. ‘You made me laugh, you taught me how to play the piano… and the sex wasn’t bad.’ He let out a small chuckle. ‘I had one of those moments you hate where I realised if I’d killed myself, I’d never have known how much fun I could have.’

‘That’s what all the girls say, I can’t get around to them all before I die, but I’ll be damned if I won’t try.’ He was glad she saw the funny side, but something nagged him. ‘You’re scared if you say yes to this being more and it doesn’t work out, you’ll just go back to the way it was before.’

‘Yeah.’ She breathed.

House could understand that. Maybe she was right, but his mind was a little foggy so he wasn’t in the best place to be talking too deeply about it. He figured he’d look after her for the next couple of days, make sure she got what she needed and then they’d just go back to the odd fun night together like it was no big deal. At least that seemed to be the best case scenario.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

#Greg House #greg house x reader #greg house x original female character #greg house fic #house md

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dailyfanfix · 2 years

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Fic Rec II: Today I Bury You in Me, ch. 4

fic by: @the-darklings

Main Post

Thoughts on Chapter 4 (Spoiler Warning): Year 304-521

This chapter starts with—wait, pause, is the reason why Wanderer used to be close to Desire was because she used to desire a lot of things?? But ended up being close to Dream because she began to actually dream of things? Like, you can desire something for shallow reasons, but when you dream of things, you understand its true value. Is this a nod to Wanderer’s fantastic character development—???

*clears throat* Anyway.

What I like about this chapter is that we get to see a little bit about Wanderer’s history, even though she doesn’t even know herself. You can also see that Wanderer does actually age, but not like humans. Her experiences, her curse—it wears her out, and you can see it. So you’re able to empathize with the character more, and her character, once again, gets deeper and more complex.

I have nothing to say about that line. It’s just good *chef’s kiss*

Ohhhh and! Now we get to the part where Dream talks about Hob Gadling.

And I love how Wanderer reacts to it. It hurts her, and I actually felt so freaking sad about this scene because imagine being in her position, knowing that someone else was granted immortality, but is not cursed.

Hob Gadling loves life, and his immortality provides him more time to keep loving it. As for Wanderer, her immortality takes life away from her. She’s alive, but she’s not really allowed to live.

Then there’s that line. Wanderer has lived for so long, has been scarred many times, that she instinctively forgets that’s she’s human, too.

AND THEN THIS:

OH MY GOD HE REMEMBERED—

Oop— that kinda hurt. Because it’s just one line, but you can really see one of Morpheus’ biggest flaws. He separates himself from humanity bc he's a being of great power, and so he can’t understand what Wanderer’s life is like.

So he presumes that becoming “like him” is good, but to Wanderer, the fact that she’s lived so long, “becoming like him” means she lives more and more with her curse. Morpheus lives with no curse, Wanderer lives because of the curse.

So the more she lives long enough to become sort of like him means more pain on her part.

AHHH DREAMFALL— I’ll let y’all read that part if you haven’t. It’s too goo to spoil, so I won’t react to how special that line feels to me.

The next scene, though, isn’t so happy. But what I like about it is that it kind of drags you back down from the moment earlier. It reminds you what life is like for Wanderer, and that the Dreaming isn’t a place she can be in all the time.

It reminds you that this story isn’t just about Wanderer/Dream. It’s also about Wanderer’s story as a whole and what it symbolizes in regard to the humans, the Endless, and entities like Corinthian.

There’s a depth to her character that is just SO GOOD AKDALDHAAKJD

I love how after all she’s suffered, she appears in the Dreaming, giving her the rest she deserves. And it’s nice to see that the Dreaming’s inhabitant really care for her.

O U C H.

I’ll say, though, that her saying that isn’t coming from how selfish Morpheus can be and has been. I don’t think it’s about Morpheus, I think it’s about Wanderer not being able to accept that she’s worthy of being accepted.

All she remembers is being treated like a threat by humans, and because of her curse, she sees herself as someone who isn’t deserving of care, especially by someone like Morpheus. So I think that line is more of a result of her curse than something that was Morpheus’ doing.

In a future chapter, it gets explained why that word is so important, and why the Morpheus telling her to call for him is important and so meaningful.

I won’t say any more, but please do read this series if you haven’t already. The author can make just one word mean so much.

(Masterlist)

Posted on October 1, 2022

Posted by Sophia

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twdmusicboxmystery · 1 year

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Galadriel's Rewatch of Davon

What I actually wanted to do today was share that I rewatched Davon last night!! It was interesting watching it with the new info in mind about Daryl’s spin-off.

I have a couple notes, some of which we’ve talked about but now there’s new perspective, some of which I don’t remember if we talked about.

First, I took note of the images pulled from the six episodes that are used in the credits. They’re all important images to TWD and its weirdness as associated with the CRM, particularly re: Beth and Rick. There��s an explosion, a graveyard, skull w measurements, a mysterious house with a dark figure and a full moon, a motorcycle, and a boat.

Going to try and plow through these Davon notes. Lmk what you guys think. Per the images above, I really like the one with the dark figure and the blood moon, because the dark figure reminds me of the dark figure in the picture from WHAWGO. Could be coincidence. Idk. But that figure in the drawing in WHAWGO has always troubled me. Like that’s creepy and something is off about it.

This time around, I really got the sense that Davon being handcuffed to dead Amanda is like a reference to the albatross. It reminds me of the orange backpack, ie: Who is carrying the burden? It’s not clear how he gets Amanda back to the house, but it’s probable he just carried her and hallucinated the rest, since it’s pretty clear that he bashes her brains out with his prosthetic leg in the woods.

So as he was walking around with Amanda, having these memories, I thought, this is a reference to a man that is handcuffed to his burdens, and those burdens consist of deaths that are not his fault, but that feel like they’re his fault. This reminded me of a literalization of Daryl. Like he’s walking around with Beth handcuffed to his wrist. Sophia. Merle. Rick. Denise. It’s neverending, and the burden gets heavier and heavier.

Next, there are some interesting brand or company references in Davon. The director is sure to zoom in on them, but REALLY quick. It’s clear we’re meant to see them, but only if we care enough to look.

The two companies I’m talking about are the manufacturer of the TIRE we see and the manufacturer of the storage bin. The tire manufacturer is Cooper Tire and Rubber Company, based out of Findlay, OH. The bin manufacturer is Akro-Mils, based out of Akron, OH. That’s two Ohio references. I think it’s clear there’s definitely going to be some sort of Ohio thing going on with Daryl’s spin-off. Even if indirectly. I get the sense that possibly that’s where the outbreak could have originated, if the Primrose Team was in Toledo when it happened.

In the WB Coda there’s a reference to TB Ellis on the hard drive (a folder labeled TB Ellis Papers). I think he may have been on Team Primrose, or he was affiliated with them the same as Jenner. That’s my bit of speculation on that…

There’s a conversation at the dinner table in which Amanda talks about what happened to Arnaud and Arnaud’s father. They went beyond the walls, and her husband did not come back. Arnaud came back with a huge, hook-shaped scar on his throat. It looks like a clear knife wound, so whoever killed his father, it was probably people or caused by people, not walkers. During the conversation, Arnaud says, “Scar’s worse than the wound,” to which Davon replies, “Truer words,” as if he knows exactly what he’s talking about. This reminded me of Daryl’s scar, which we know nothing about, and about metaphorical scars, and the episode Scars, which is about abducted children.

Also something I noticed this time around is that Garen is absent from the flashbacks until the end. Or like, he’s peaking around the edges of Davon’s memory but mostly blocked. Like, we don’t even understand that Nora has a son until the mystery is nearly solved. But Davon must have known Garen if he was spending that much time with Nora. This is evidence for repression, or memory blocks, ie: sometimes when we are working through a trauma, the mind will repress certain information to protect itself from further trauma. But this sends the mind into a feedback loop in which the trauma is continuously relived, because it’s in search of the answer. This reminded me of Daryl and Beth as well, as well as Siddiq.

Story and Clark is the brand of the piano that they play on. Story and Clark originated in Grand Rapids, Michigan and then moved to Seneca, Pennsylvania. Something interesting is that Slingerland, the drums manufacturer that’s referenced in a folder in the WB Coda, was also hubbed in Michigan. Kalamazoo. In Evie/Joe, they are road tripping through Ohio to get to Michigan. I couldn’t remember if there were more Michigan references, but there’s something going on in Michigan. Seneca, PA is an extremely small town, like 300 people, in NE Pennsylvania, not far from the Ohio border. A lot of concentration in this part of the country for Tales.

Also when they play the piano, I’m sure we took note of the yellow “Beth” flowers in the background. I couldn’t remember if we talked about the intensity of their reflections here in this shot, on the surface of the piano, like a glimpse into a mirror universe, or the implication that this story is, itself, a “reflection.”

In the next flashback, they’re talking about where they are and Davon’s motivations and where he was going. This part is very important. Amanda is telling him about Madawaska, and how most people don’t realize they’re in America when they’re there. She says, “This was our land until the British decided it wasn’t.” Davon says, “Yeah that sounds familiar.”

Oh, does it? What is he referring to? He makes a couple comments here that sounds like he may know something about CRM colonization.

In the same conversation, Nora asks if he was headed to Montreal. He nods very subtly but does not elaborate. We know from earlier that Davon speaks “the basics” of French because he “knew someone” who spoke it. I think he’s referring to a girlfriend, who is pictured in the photograph, on the far right, wearing the McGill sweatshirt.

I think this picture was taken with care. It looks like Davon with his family and his girlfriend at his college graduation. She has significantly lighter skin than the rest of them. She is still wearing her McGill sweatshirt, and not in her graduation gown, probably because she’s younger and was still in university when he graduated. It’s speculation, but I think Davon is American.

I think he probably went to McGill as an International Student. He met his girlfriend there, who was French-Canadian and spoke French. When the outbreak hit, he was not in Montreal. He was either visiting home or working in a laboratory somewhere in the eastern US. I would speculate that Davon was either enlisted to work for some CRM research project (re: the PPP card) before, during, or after the outbreak, and he was detained there for a long time.

At some point, however, whatever work he was doing had to be interrupted, or he escaped, and he is now trying to make his way back to Montreal to try and find his girlfriend. The only thing is, Madawaska’s location. It’s so bizarre. It’s way, way out on the northern tip of Maine. This is why I think Davon may have arrived by boat, either up the eastern coast of the US, or having come over from Europe.

There is another line, a little later, that draws me to believe that Davon is traveling to Montreal to search for his girlfriend. They’re talking about why you would save somebody’s life, even if it puts your own at risk. Davon says that in order to ethically save yourself, you need to ensure that your life is worth saving. Nora says, “What’s in Montreal that would make your life worth saving?” There’s then a quick impressionistic flash to the picture.

This spoke to me. I believe that Davon is trying to get to his girlfriend in Montreal, but then he meets Nora, who lures him in with romance, and then she betrays him. This is similar to Daryl’s search for Rick, on the river, and what happens with Leah. Leah is temptation, like the Sirens in the Odyssey. But also, it’s a bit off, in that comparison, because Davon seems to be clearly searching for his girlfried. Is it foreshadowing for what will happen with Daryl in France? The discussion about whether or not Isabelle could “tempt” Daryl is interesting in this sense.

Also, if Davon is searching for his girlfriend, the suggestion would be that it’s been many years.

There’s been a lot of parallels with Daryl and Davon, even their names look symilar. The fact that Davon could be going to Montreal to search for his long lost girlfriend is very interesting.

Two other instances, in which it seems like Davon is privy to some form of civilation post-apocalypse. The first is when they’re talking about the British takeover. Amanda is not optimistic. She has a very primitive view of survival of the fittest, ie: some people deserve to die, some people cannot be saved, sometimes murder is mercy.

Davon has a different worldview. Like, crime and punishment, trial and justice. He says, “We can still have rules. I mean, laws work most of the time. Usually it’s just the people who make them that don’t.” This could suggest he is currently rebelling against “those who make [the laws].”

Maybe he was doing CRM research and realized there was something unethical going on and escaped. Davon seems like an extremely moral person, but like he’s only just now learning to be strong. Probably he’s been living in safety for a long time. The other thing that makes me think about Davon’s connection to civilization and the CRM is his final line: “There’s still life out there. There’s still hope. You will see. If you let yourselves.” I don’t know that he’s talking about the CRM, per se, but perhaps a rebel faction, or the people inside the CRM, like Leo and Dr. Ellis, who are doing real work to find a cure.

There are also tons of RX pills in this episode. I noticed this last time, but it’s very clear now that they either raided a pharmacy early on or have some sort of supply line. Davon pops pain pills when he gets back to Amanda’s and there are pill bottles in the basement. I think I said once I think the sweet honey or syrup that Arnaud feeds the children is laced with some sort of narcotic, like oxycodone, which makes them sleep, and eventually he ODs them.

Other similarities to Daryl. When Davon gives Nora the strawberry, he is wearing a black vest. The blood stains on his bandaid resemble angel wings.

Lasting questions I have are: I still don’t understad what the acid is that kills Amanda, why it’s there. It’s green, which makes it look like a chlorine bleach mixture. But it’s much to corrosive to be simple bleach, and you wouldn’t just leave something like that lying around? I wondered if maybe they were going to use it to disolve the bodies.

Also, the excavator. I mean, what? How do they have an excavator. How do they have the fuel required to power an excavator? The strawberry that Davon gives to Nora is also extremely gigantic, like a fancy GMO strawberry. This is super different from the strawberry Daryl finds, which is very small, normal like a wild strawberry. Ofc it could just be nothing. But you never know.

That’s my notes! It’s clear to me that there is something extremely weird going on here and that it is related to Daryl.

Oh also, the strawberry, its shape. It’s got like a twinning effect going on, like two strawberries fused together, growing from the same stem.

I was also trying to imagine if it could be significant that he is wearing a child’s glasses? They’re a little too small for him. This seems pointed. I was wondering if you guys had any thoughts on this. Like, he’s naive? Idk.

@wdway

Great job on your rewatch review. I do think that as we learn more about Daryl's storyline things in this episode will become clearer. I think the PPP card stands out as a hinted that this isn't just a one watch and it's done episode. The other day I caught one of the last episodes of s2 TWB on AMC+ all TWD channel and when I saw Elton's girl friends vest with the double red V on it I immediately thought of the graduation picture in Tales Davon episode. TWB episode where the maple leaf falls from the sky.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 2 years

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ARTWINS!

Unbelievably, another year has passed. Here’s to @artwinsdraws: you shall be showered in love and gifts today and in commissions hopefully any other day. May you grow in years as much as you grow in your art every year. And for everyone else: please check their commissions page, folks.

Sadly enough, the only gift I have for you today is a story we talked about lately. Without further ado, have it for yourselves now and don’t sue me for the smut parts! All the best to you.

Summer in Toussaint meant blistering heat. The air flickered almost tangibly, causing dizziness, and the lungs of one’s body seemed to dry up with every breath. It was one of the reasons why Emhyr despised the country ruled by his cousin. Of course, even Nilfgaard itself was not usually a pleasure during the summer months. He was essentially used to it, yet the coolness of the palace walls helped make the weather more bearable.

Out here, there was no such luxury. Corvo Bianco was an unreliable refuge for the heat, at least as far as Emhyr was concerned. He began to curse his decision to pay a visit to his spouse at this time of year, of all times.

The winery was Geralt's property, and it could well have been managed by the caretakers, but Geralt's visits here belonged to their tacit agreements. Geralt was amazingly inflexible in some respects: he always rose with the rising sun, he always put his personal needs behind, and he loved Emhyr with unparalleled loyalty. And yet, in accordance with his guild animal, he was a wanderer. Although no longer a cub: as if it was genetically anchored in him, there always came a time when his eyes roamed restlessly into the distance.

Then he was dragged to the path. At first, Emhyr had thought he was being drawn to the past, but that was not true. Rather, his little adventures, as Emhyr called them with a mocking undertone meant to hide his concern, seemed to almost charge him up like Emhyr's court sorceress charging her magic crystals.

There was another arrangement: when Geralt was in Toussaint, Emhyr always stole a day or two, during which his sorceress shielded him from the world and its obligations in a special way: by transporting him here. For that time, he remained invisible in the palace, and all requests bounced off, all meetings were adjourned, and the throne room was empty. Then Corvo Bianco was also his retreat, a place where he was only Emhyr. When the house belonged to them alone and nothing could be heard but the occasional crackling of the old beams or the flickering of the candlelight or Geralt's gasp with no need to hold back because there were no guards outside the door.

But now they were not in the house, which Emhyr would clearly have preferred. Instead, he sat on the grass with his sleeves rolled up – one of the few fashionable concessions to the heat – and without a robe. It wasn't as if he couldn't enjoy nature, even though for many years it had shown him mainly its hostile sides. Originality and simplicity certainly had their good sides.

For there was Geralt, who had tried in vain to persuade him to hold his bare feet in the little stream that defied the heat with sheer force of will. Geralt with that alluring, challenging grin on his face that even Toussaint's long hours in the sun couldn't really tan. Emhyr, on the other hand, had the feeling that in this climate, after only a short time, he would take on the complexion of one of the olives that his husband loved to shove between his lips. What a telltale detail. He could almost imagine the whispering at court.

And yet, he didn't care now. All that mattered now was that Geralt had taken off his shirt at some point. A single drop of sweat, long since a narrow trickle, had found its way down from his neck, teasing one of the scars only to finally stuck to his left nipple. There was sweet grape juice on the rustic blanket Geralt had spread on the dry grass, barely cool in the clay jug, just enough to moisten his suddenly parched throat. But Emhyr did not move, did not even dare to stretch out his hand as if the mere action might disturb some kind of magic that had settled over the moment. As if he suddenly found himself in one of those fairy rings that folklore told of.

Geralt, however, was not a mystical mythical figure. He was all too seductive flesh, from his sweaty hairline to his bare fetlocks beneath the water’s surface. The languid gesture with which he shooed away an annoying insect was like a summons to Emhyr. He licked his lips as if they would burst with dryness, as if the man, his sheer existence, was drawing every drop of moisture from his body.

Out here, in the shade of the trees, the air did not flicker, but there was not even a breath of air that would have moved the leaves and at least cooled the sweat on the skin. Geralt, with his teasing grin and his feet in the water, with his nipple wet with sweat and the strand of hair he blew out of his face: his very own heatwave.

As the heat spread between his thighs, Emhyr leaned back, pressing his back against the bark of a tree, opening his legs ever so slightly, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Geralt. This was already foreplay. The looks, the stoic handling of the heat which had long since seized the innermost. The moisture that ran down Emhyr's back seemed to simultaneously evaporate and cool in an instant.

"It's quiet out here," Geralt said with an innocence he must have lost more than 80 years ago. "Even the birds are too hot to sing. But you, honored husband, sit there not even allowing the sweat to cool your imperial body."

A hand, sunk in the stream, suddenly shot up and sprinkled a breath of moisture in Emhyr's direction, eaten up almost imperceptibly by the ambient temperature.

"An attack?" Emhyr replied with a sneer. "Maybe you better choose your weapons more carefully."

"Oh, you mean like yourself? I don't see that you have anything more to offer than a sharp tongue."

"I didn't offer it yet."

Geralt's hand, seemingly absorbed in playing with the water, paused, and his gaze became interested.

"One does wonder what else would be needed for that," he said, almost dreamily.

Suddenly he rose, tugged at the waistband of his loose pants, adding perkily, "You might need some more motivation."

As if these tight thighs beneath the stunning waist were not incentive enough; not reason enough to make a man break out in a sweat even more than the heat could. He stood upright, his long lashes half closed over his golden eyes. The sun that could not dye this fair skin and bleach this white hair even more; that very sun shone not merely on a body, but on a marvel. The thought seemed to come directly from one of those pulp novels, and yet... The true miracle was that this body, whose countless scars told so many stories, had a very special story reserved just for Emhyr. One that all power and wealth could not acquire. One that was given only by itself and only in true devotion.

But no thought of that now. The day, the spot, even the romantic mood that a picnic promised, might carry something poetic in it. However, the depressing heat – or perhaps something else entirely – clouded his senses and left room only for animal instincts. A mind that on any other day bowed to protocols, rules and sheer logic, even demanded all this, virtually as the natural order of things, could stop thinking now and here. Perhaps Emhyr was simply giving in to the desire between his thighs, but as a Nilfgaard saying went, Much that is tasteless at the table is spice in bed.

This bed would be made of grass and moss, but he did not care. He stretched out his hand. The throne room was far away, and yet, for a heartbeat long, it seemed that he was ready to pass judgment. As far as Geralt was concerned, he had made his judgment a long time ago.

"I don't want to keep you waiting," he said calmly as his eyes roamed over Geralt's body.

It was always like this. He never got enough of the sight, and although they had done nothing but roast in the heat, exchanging glances and ridiculous words, Geralt was already half hard. Almost as if the feigned indifference in Emhyr's gestures and words excited him, although the man was still wearing all his clothes, steaming underneath.

"You think," Geralt said as he moved closer, his wet feet wetting the grass with urgently needed moisture, "I'm so impatient? So keen to present myself to you?"

"Why else would you have already torn off your clothes, my dear?"

The incorruptible logic of these words, coolly delivered, was undeniable. With two steps Geralt overcame the distance. Even his naked body radiated a heat that took Emhyr's breath away for a moment – or was it something else? When stormy lips conquered his, the thought faded away like all the others. Geralt had gone down on his knees, but this time without that quiet mockery that this game sometimes held for both of them: the only man who had ever voluntarily knelt before the Emperor and yet had never officially done so.

Now other moisture wetted Emhyr’s parched mouth, but he quickly realized that he was not suffering from thirst but hunger. This was hunger that always arose in Geralt's presence, as the saying goes, appetite comes with eating. Not that this required any prompting.

Emhyr's hand was warm like everything about him, but also damp with sweat as he closed it around Geralt's neck and pulled him even closer. For a moment, all of this seemed overwhelming. His clothes stuck to his body, and Geralt's urgent tongue did nothing to relieve the heat, on the contrary. The latter must have sensed this, because now nimble fingers slipped under the waistband of Emhyr's tunic, and despite the temperatures, they left a pleasant little shiver on his back.

Geralt's mouth parted from his, moist lips with a broad, victorious smile as he murmured, "You sure must be feeling hot, husband."

Emhyr had his shirt pulled over his head and quietly returned, "Oh, and you think you have the cure?"

"Well," Geralt returned, as his hands wandered slowly over Emhyr's shoulders as if searching for an elevation he didn't yet know, "we can bathe in the stream afterward and see if it helps."

"Afterward," Emhyr growled, impatience flashing in his eyes, and Geralt gave a hoarse, low laugh.

"You're right, of course, for an afterward, there must be a now," Geralt replied lightly, eyes fixed firmly on the veiled hazel before him as his fingers stroked the other’s crotch: playfully at first, to a firm grip that elicited a hiss.

"Oi," he went on with raised brows, an outrageous impersonation of his spouse, "who would have ever heard of wild mountain lions around Corvo Bianco?"

"Cheeky," Emhyr returned as his tongue found the saliva for the words.

Geralt knew exactly what effect he had, and he enjoyed it. And Emhyr relished it as well, for even if this bold advance of his husband might have had much to do with the heat lying heavily over the land and clouding the senses, it was just as rare.

It was one of those traits that Emhyr loved so much about him. The outwardly tough witcher, a relentless fighter, a bastion against monsters (here he might exaggerate a little, but the essence was correct): he loved to surrender. In the seclusion of their bedchamber (and by no means only there), he let himself fall and gave up all strength. Wax in Emhyr's hands, beneath his fingers and his tongue, eliciting sounds that had drilled into Emhyr's memory and lingered there as an escape from all those monotonous moments that his everyday life had to offer.

Now, however, Emhyr was the wax, perhaps even already melted. For now, his witcher appeared boldly. His fingers' movements did not allow escape, the closeness with which he pressed against him offered no way out, and that was not desired either. Soon he was nibbling on Emhyr's earlobe, soon his warm breath was stroking his neck; all this while a hand held him in place. And Emhyr let himself be held there as if Geralt's hands were burning into his skin; but if so, this was the most wonderful fire under which to perish.

"There are things I want to do," Geralt whispered, a hot breath of wind on Emhyr's ear. "That is, I wanted to do them. But it is too hot, and if I don't feel you inside me soon, honored husband, all this will be over much faster than I would like. Or you."

"Filthy," Emhyr replied, the corners of his mouth half raised.

Then he pushed Geralt back and lay down on the grass, literally tearing his pants off as he moved.

"Give me what is due," he demanded, "and I warn you, hold your horses."

There it was again, that hoarse little laugh that could cause shivers all its own, but of course, Geralt obeyed.

"He can't help it," he spoke more to himself, "commanding even out here, I may ascend his throne."

"Stop talking, or this will actually be over sooner than you thought," Emhyr muttered with a telltale little gasp in his voice.

Geralt now knelt over him, breathing a tiny kiss on the corner of Emhyr's mouth, and then whirled around.

"For this reward, you will have to work," he still said, with his body finally lying down on Emhyr.

There was no answer, for his mouth was already closing over Emhyr's member with feverish impatience, leaving the latter only a rasping moan in a very dry mouth. And yet it was necessary to collect any available moisture. He raised his hands, pushed apart the cheeks seductively presented in front of him, sucking in a deep breath of the tangy smell emanating from the perky erect cock not far away.

At that moment he wanted everything and couldn't decide; here beneath Geralt's thighs: everything was a provocation, the finely glittering precum as well as the tight rear end. He took up the drop with a careful finger, undecided whether to moisten his own lips with it, to enjoy the foretaste. But then, almost automatically, he stroked it over the puckering hole presented to him. The moisture evaporated in the heat as if it had never been there, but there was a soft sound in front of him that was almost lost in the indecent slurping.

So his finger followed the now invisible trail, and although Geralt's mouth worked his cock with that particular skill he had never quite understood and which drove him to the brink of madness, he gave himself to the task. Gently, ever so gently, he explored the familiar folds, this irresistible mystery that was his alone. Of course, this was not enough, and the drop of sweat rolling off Geralt's back, entering his cheeks, did little to calm his excitement. As if the heat had made him lose his mind, it finally occurred to Emhyr that he needed more as well as Geralt did. Even though another seduction stood hard and firm right in front of him, now the impatience was back, demanding quick release.

With curt but purposeful movements he directed Geralt's hips, and then finally he had him as he desired. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, but the sight before him moistened it, a clever trick of nature. Slowly, he stroked one of those few spots on that alluring body that didn't have the light, almost chalky color that the mutations had claimed. Even as the tip of his tongue merely grazed the sensitive edge, the effect was immediate. Geralt's grip tightened. A sound rang out, muffled: half sigh, half lustful moan. His tongue, only seconds before so eager in its task, faltered just a moment long.

Finally, they realized each had their assignment – with the same, immediate goal. As if they had agreed, almost in sync, they both found a rhythm. The heated air, the sweat-soaked grass, even the chirping of insects attracted to it; everything faded into the background. There was still heat, the kind that rises from the innermost, the kind that spirals up and lightens every thought.

A light wind arose, a gentle breeze still; just a breath brushing over the heated bodies until drops of sweat became goosebumps. The wind remained unnoticed, but would not remain so for long: this first gentle rustling of the leaves heralded a still distant thunderstorm that would unload in a while.

But first, it seemed, eagerness unleashed that lovers feel who are so close to each other and not yet close enough. Again it was Geralt who took the lead. He, who was usually all too avid to let Emhyr guide him in this particular dance, now showed an impatience that was not only due to the weather. Although it was his choice to withdraw from the palace for weeks, it seemed as if all those weeks had built up inside him and demanded immediate redemption.

His movements were nimble and deft, and before Emhyr knew what happened, he had disentangled and spun around. Hot lips demanded a kiss, forcing a tongue inside. Emhyr's mouth filled with his own taste lingering on Geralt’s tongue, tart and a touch sweet. He closed his eyes and analyzed it as if it was a wine, and was this a good vintage? It seemed so to him. But even that, just a taste: if this was a wine, he had only absorbed the aroma, and it was Geralt who would feast on it. Suddenly, the lips were gone, yet the taste still lingered in Emhyr’s mouth, mixed with Geralt’s unique flavor.

"Open your eyes, my love," Geralt said, "you don't want to miss this."

When had this man become so bold? He, who usually always melted beneath Emhyr's fingers; a body so hardened by many torments, yet so malleable and receptive. Receptive to every gentle touch, every breath that stroked the scars that crisscrossed the body like a map; a map of experiences that were never quite forgotten and that these fingers could nevertheless heal, at least for the moment.

Emhyr opened his eyes, and there was that smile, broad as if the sun was rising. In truth, the first delicate clouds were moving in front of the real sun, but the sky was far, and the smile was very close.

Geralt rested his hands on Emhyr's chest. Whether that was necessary or not, it was another physical connection that drove the heat immeasurably. The next compound wasn't quite as easy, even in this position, and the concentrated expression on Geralt's face was amazingly arousing. His shoulder-length hair, tamed with a ribbon only for work out here, had long since come loose. It framed a face that was never more beautiful than in those moments full of passion.

And in all this: the smile remained, just like his gaze remained fixed on Emhyr's eyes. As if to assure he was with him, all the time, not only physically – a mind fixed to his. Finally, they both gasped at the same time, in a sound that blended and became one, just like their bodies that had just met. The warmth that now enveloped Emhyr was incomparable and completely different from any other heat. It was marvelous, still: he almost enjoyed the sight in front of him even more. His hands found their way to Geralt’s hips in a rehearsed movement, and he clasped tight as Geralt lowered his body with agonizing slowness.

Geralt's member rested almost on Emhyr's belly, the wet tip close to losing another drop, and the mere thought was overwhelming. But not so much as everything else; for now Geralt leaned forward once more to graze his lips with a careless kiss. Another teaser, although no more foretaste. For now he was moving, slowly pushing himself up, leaning on Emhyr as his hair brushed his spouse's cheek.

The fact that the wind was picking up went unnoticed, just like the sun, whose rays no longer made it through the denser clouds. The sultriness, on the other hand, seemed to increase even more, but the sweat dripping from both bodies might well have another reason. One of those reasons, no doubt, was that Geralt's body was now bent over even more, to the point their nipples met, rubbing against each other with every touch. This very special angle tempted deep, firm thrusts, and soon Emhyr had regained his dominance in this game.

Their gazes met in a silent admission, and their mouths, only briefly detached from each other, exchanged knowing smiles. Emhyr's grip tightened, and at last, his witcher surrendered to this force of nature. When the first drops fell, a gentle summer rain with a hint of petrichor, Emhyr’s thrusts were still exploratory. Then, as if the sudden rain was his impulse generator, he imperceptibly adapted to this external rhythm and found his nature.

Nature itself – well, it had also picked up speed. The rain hit the far too dry ground with a hiss, and the drops splashing into the stream played their own tune. Above all this was a dull rumble, not too distant now: the storm was approaching, no longer a mere announcement. No doubt, then, that their sounds were barely audible, and yet, they were the only thing they heard.

These were delicate sounds, reserved for special occasions and places; sounds, in any case, that were probably rarely heard out here. The smacking of two bodies, drenched in sweat and lust, colliding. The low, approving hum from two throats when this happened; when what seemed to be made for each other found each other. How quickly that hum could turn into a sound that was almost a whimper, by just a single touch. The more their bodies adjusted to each other, the more Emhyr increased his speed; almost as if the more Geralt opened up to him, the more he wanted to make sure he stayed close.

The friction stayed and increased, even though the world around them softened. The earth gave way to the surge of water. The next morning, very early, when Emhyr was back at the palace taking a bath, his chamberlain would be very surprised at the hard-to-remove stain that grass, moss, and earth had rubbed into his master’s hips. He, however, would give a very slight smile at the memory that came with it, almost wishing it wouldn’t fade so soon.

But now and here it didn't matter. The now and here was filled with heat that was barely around them anymore. The approaching thunderstorm, a threatening sound and sheet lightning, had cooled the air noticeably. But Geralt's warmth surrounding him was so much hotter than the air had ever been.

"It's raining," Geralt gasped, and his veiled gaze made it clear that this had indeed only just dawned on him.

A second before he had been lying limp, nearly will-less on top of Emhyr, letting himself be held, driven into an extremely delicate state of consciousness by hard, almost ruthless thrusts. Now he was wide awake. The grayness that had set in unnoticed made his eyes glow with that peculiar radiance that rivaled a cat. But the cats, of which there were plenty on Corvo Bianco, had long since retreated to a safe place, safe not only from the strange not-quite-man and his companion but also from the thunderstorm.

Whatever it was, the sudden coolness brushing across his heated chest, the rain that pressed his hair heavily into his neck, or the approaching climax – he straightened up, his hands firmly on Emhyr's shoulders, an unspoken request to give in. Not for the first time today, the latter obeyed.

Emhyr lay there, in that increasingly damp bed of grass, his mouth slightly open, letting the rain moisten his throat and Geralt his desires. He came with the first real lightning strike that lit up the sky, and the thunder that quickly followed accompanied the twitching of his cock deep inside Geralt. The latter laughed, although the roar of the sky almost swallowed the sound, just as he swallowed the increasingly heavy rain. The laughter was pure joy, ecstasy even. Perhaps also a special kind of outlet, as it is sometimes in moments of extreme excitement, when joy and sadness, fear and thrill, and many such feelings blend.

He was still laughing when he swallowed that laugh itself because a single touch was enough to break the camel's back. The rain was now so heavy that it quickly wiped away what was showering his husband.

"I guess the bath in the stream will have to be canceled," Geralt said with a chuckle.

Once again, lightning twitched across the sky. The thunderstorm was so close, and the trees so dry, that reason finally took over again. It was visibly difficult for Geralt to break away, but the magic of the moment had faded, and the raindrops pelted down on them almost painfully.

"We should go," he said, jumping up and gathering their clothes scattered on the damp grass.

Emhyr did not want to go. It wasn't that he had suddenly developed a love for nature, certainly not because it was just mercilessly pouring over them. Unlike Geralt, whose mood after lovemaking could be fragile and strange, sometimes high, sometimes low, he was anxious to delay the moment until reality crashed down on him.

"Come," Geralt said softly, as if sensing just that – which he probably did, amazing as that was for his kind and profession, and held out his hand to him.

This time, when lightning and thunder applied simultaneously, Emhyr grabbed his hand.

After all, it would have been a great misfortune to lose the Emperor of Nilfgaard to a thunderstorm, of all things.

#happy birthday #artwins #Emralt #writing #fanfiction #art and fanfiction are the best companions #my fics

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steter-bang · 2 years

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Enjoy some Steter fics from previous Steter Bangs this weekend! After all, we wouldn’t be here without them! 🥰

A Match Made in Monstrosity Author: Irukashi_Narukib Collection: Steter Bang 2021 Art: Embedded Rating: M Words: 57,804 Summary: “An adult Stiles Stilinski has learned the trade of murder to survive and thrive. He survived the death of his mother and the resultant lack of guidance that led him to need to manage by unsavory means. Now he's turned those skills into an art. He's at the top of his field, taking down more unsolved marks than anyone else in a given year. With his partners Danny, Lydia, and Erica he must face a shadow organization that aims to destroy the Supernatural black market. When the chips are down he must call on an unlikely ally. A man that has disrupted him on more than one occasion. A man who draws him nearer and makes his mind unravel the longer they know each other. Can they make their goals align for long enough to achieve their ambitions or will the organization crush them?”

This Same Wilderness (In Which We Dwell) Author: Chika_Lohaine Collection: Steter Bang 2021 Art: Here Rating: E Words: 35,061 Summary: “It’s Stiles Stilinski, super nerd, FBI intern, genius detective (in his words), and Scott’s best friend, that goes missing. The person the pack finds isn’t the same Stiles, not anymore. He is different, kind of like how he was after the nogitsune, but worse, more. It was like they didn’t know him at all. And he had a child.” “Let’s not talk about that haunted look you have in your eyes. I’ve seen it before.” Peter stood up properly and walked towards where Stiles was sitting. “When you look in the mirror?” Stiles snarked. “Nobody walks out of hell without scars, Stiles.” Peter glared. “No, because we crawl our way out.”

Dynamo Author: Besin Collection: Steter Big Bang (2015) Art: See next paragraph Rating: M Words: 42,178 Summary: “As a fungi begins killing off Chlorophyll, the world shuts down. Electricity becomes exclusive to hospitals, gasoline is banned, and food begins to grow scarce as the fungi evolves. When Lydia Martin discovers a cure as Oxygen begins to drop to alarming levels, it's up to Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale, and Laura’s uncle Peter to get her safely across the 2,900 miles between Beacon Hills, California and Washington DC in a hope to save the world. A lot can happen in 2,900 miles.”

Art for “Dynamo” Artist: Hypnale Collection: Steter Big Bang (2015)

fate Author: Lua Collection: 14k Steter Reverse Bang (2018) Art: Here Rating: T Words: 5,051 Summary: “Stiles wasn't crazy enough to really think his dreams were anything more than just dreams.”

All That Time Author: red_crate Collection: Steter Reverse Bang (2019) Art: Here Rating: T Words: 9,294 Summary: “I don’t need an escort,” Stiles complains. He clears his throat to displace the lump in it. “The house is big, but it’s not Buckingham palace.”Peter slides his arm away, but not before tugging at the hair at the back of his head where it’s grown out since he buzzed it before seventh grade started a few months ago. “Who knows, you might have. Good thing you’ve got me to keep you on the path.” He’s smirking, and Stiles snorts. “Not the good path.” Stiles waves his arms in a shooing motion. “Okay, I’m here. Safe and sound. Go away.” “Good night, little lamb,” Peter sings softly as he turns to head back to the kitchen where he left his bag.—***— In which Stiles grows up with the Hales and grows into himself.”

You Just Got Ghosted! Author: Ragga Collection: Steter Reverse Bang (2019) Art: Here & Embedded Rating: T Words: 28,911 Summary: “What’s your name, angel?” little Stiles murmured even as his eyes fell closed, quickly losing his battle against sleep. Stiles smiled. It was a little sad but also heavy with the knowledge that what he was doing was the right thing—heavy with the knowledge he didn’t deserve the moniker bestowed upon him. “You can call me Mietek.” Or the one where there's time travel, feels abound, two Stiles in one timeline, and one of them stuck somewhere between the planes of existence. Yet a ghost can still manage to save the day and get the girl. Or the wolf. Manly wolf. Because Peter.”

#steter mini bang 2022 #fic rec friday #fics from previous steter bangs #😍😍😍

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narrans · 1 year

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Wizard of the Wood | 21 | Conversations and Confrontations

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Essie’s body felt completely filled with the weight of a continent of sand. Her heart skipped two or three beats, she wasn’t quite sure, and all nerves in her body simultaneously screamed to run while also losing all feeling entirely.

There was something naturally unnerving about someone knowing you, calling you by a name with a look of recognition in their eyes, and you having absolutely no recollection of that person while your instincts scream to flee.

As much as she wanted to leave, Essie could not – would not – abandon Rylir on his on in a town that would undoubtedly try to eat him alive.

So…

She held firm. She kept her body taut like a drawn bowstring and held her ground against this unknown person who sent an unnerving instinct to flee ripping through her.

Cotton mouthed, she elected to address the stranger. Despite her unease, it was still rude and discourteous to be addressed twice without response.

“Apologies, but you must be mistaken. I do not believe you and I are acquainted,” said Essie curtly. “And it is considered discourtesy to not introduce oneself after addressing the other.”

Essie’s words were immediately met with a sinister, cackling laughter that made Essie sick to her stomach, bile and acid accumulating quickly in the back of her throat.

It was familiar.

She was familiar.

Why?

Essie shuddered as flashes of that wicked grin appeared above her in a darkened room accompanied by a searing pain in her arms and in her gut. There was a glint of a bloodied knife wielded by strong but nimble fingers.

That voice – her voice – rang through the visions before her eyes.

*“It’ll only hurt for a moment. Don’t struggle, or else we will have to start again.”*

Essie forced a breath into her body as the vision passed. The strange woman smiled.

“Oh, Ezra, you haven’t changed at all. Direct. To the point. Unattached. That’s what made you so good,” said the woman as she advanced two steps. “But what’s this? You don’t recognize me? You don’t remember me? And after all of our quality time training together.”

Essie was quickly losing control of her breathing which was becoming erratic at best. Though her memory couldn’t place exactly where this strange woman was from, her body seemed to know what her conscious mind could not comprehend. Another agonizing flash sent her mind reeling. Images. Desires. Hopes. The dreams… which was a revelation on its own. Every drop of pain that she endured bubbled to the forefront of her mind.

All of it slashed out at her from behind that protective veil somewhere deep in her mind.

It wasn’t everything that decided to make itself known to her all at once, but it was just enough for Essie to see that woman’s face marred by an arc of crimson lightening shooting from someone’s fingertips – her fingertips.

“I… I gave you…”

“What? This?” asked the woman as she gestured to the scar on her face. “Indeed, you did. Quite the spectacle you made of yourself that day, Ezra. Don’t worry. I am sure we can think of a way to repay the favor.” She advanced two more steps, and Essie retreated two steps instinctually.

“I do not find those terms agreeable,” stated Essie, noting a slight tremor to her voice. “And I do not appreciate you making references I do not understand.”

“My my,” muttered the woman. “How interesting. You seem to have managed to suppress all of your memories. This is the first time I have seen this in a Conduit. I wonder if you are able to tap into your Potential. You, at the very least, remember how to use your arcane abilities, don’t you?”

Essie refused to answer, not that she would have been physically capable of responding at this point in time. Every ounce of willpower was currently dedicated to maintaining her composure, and even that was failing quickly.

What were these things she was talking about?

Training?

Conduit?

Potential?

While the flashes in her mind hinted at what this strange woman was talking about, Essie still had a moment of doubt. Was this some kind of trick? Some kind of magic being used on her to plant memories and thoughts?

Sadly… she didn’t even believe her own explanation. There was something too real – to familiar – about the images flashing before her eyes.

“Come now,” coaxed the woman. “If you don’t remember your precious mentor Daemia, then surely you remember this.”

As fast and as loud as the crack of a whip, the woman raised her hand and a massive ball of fire came barreling toward Essie. Pure instinct willed Essie’s action.

She raised both hands, clasping and locking her fingers except for her index and middle fingers, and brought her hand down in a slicing motion. ‘Scinde’ Essie thought as the ball hurdled toward her.

The flaming ball crashed into the ground and then, as Essie separated her hands and spread them out, the ball split into two halves and scattered around her, leaving a trail of flame where it made contact with the ground.

There it was again – that cackling laughter that chilled Essie’s heart and froze her bones. Daemia, if that was even the woman’s real name, smiled, revealing all of her teeth in a familiar, menacing grin.

“Ah! You do remember that much. Good. I’d hate to think that I spent all that time forging you into something usable only to have you lose all of your Potential,” grinned Daemia. Essie forced herself upright through the tremors in her body, even though every fragment of her wanted nothing more than to run and hide.

Essie needed something – anything – to distract this woman. Essie hated being the central focus of this arcane entity, especially now that it sounded like Daemia was her mentor at some point.

“What are you doing here? What is your purpose?” demanded Essie, exerting all the control she could to call out to Daemia, who turned her head to the side and looked confused.

“Interesting,” she muttered. “Your Potential and abilities have stayed intact, but your own purpose and memories were repressed. I would have thought that you would have been drawn to your directive.”

Drawn to her directive? Why did that sound so ominous? It was the word selection, not how she said it, that unnerved Essie, because a directive was some kind of command or instruction. If that were the case, who was giving commands?

“What do you mean by that?” asked Essie.

“Ezra, the directive has always been the same – expansion.”

Expansion? Essie watched the woman’s eyes shift for the first time from her to the town beyond.

No…

A few menacing words seeped through the veil in her mind, making Essie wince.

*“Destroy. Fixate and eliminate. Be a good little soldier!”*

“You’re going to destroy the town?” asked Essie disbelievingly. “No! You can’t! There are people there. Good people! They have lives and families. You can’t…”

“Oh, Ezra. We’ve gone over this once before. Their scope of reality is narrow. They’re simple-minded vertebrates. Believe me, this is a boon. It will be quick,” replied Daemia, the ease of her tone presented a nonchalant demeanor that unsettled Essie all the through to her soul.

“Don’t… please… don’t do this…” she said, trying to come up with some reason why this town should be spared, all while wishing desperately that Rylir would appear so she could grab him and escape.

“You know, this day is rather fortuitous indeed, isn’t it? Here I am scouting, in need of assistance, and the fates bring you to me,” said Daemia as she began advancing step after step. Essie took an involuntary step backward, stomach churning uneasily. “Ezra, you’ve been gone for so long. It’s time to come home. Come with me now. Help complete our mission. Fulfill your purpose. It’s what I made you for.”

It was rash – the rashest thing Essie had ever done in her entire life.

Essie raised her hands and thrust forward, a wave of thunderous energy blasting from her palms as she shouted, “NO!”

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Continue

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One Shot | Wizard of the Wood

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Ask Me Anything

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